Destin Enchaîné
by Kyoka-BOO
Summary: AU, HieixKurama. DEAD
1. Chapter 1

**_Destin Enchaîné_**

**Me: **Yes, this is a new story. TAKE MY WARNINGS FIRST. This is only the first chapter. It's been sitting without purpose for a while, so that's the only purpose it's being posted for. I won't update until I'm done with my other story. So don't badger me to update. Other than that, this story is going to be a lot different than what I am used to writing. The style may differ from what I'm used to. Also, this story is MEANT to be a lot more sensual that the rest. It's not just a romance or falling in love. This is going to have a lot more mature content in it, but I may not go as far as a lemon. I just want a very sensual feeling to it. Instead of taking place in Japan, it will in turn take place in a nameless city in France. Ignore any Japanese names you see. For anyone who wonders, destin enchaîné means chained destiny.

**WARNINGS (READ FIRST): YAOI, **So do not freak yourself out about it. It will be graphic at times, and it will also contain blood, gore, masochism, sadism, ect. If it bothers you, don't read it. I'm not responsible for any mental conditions you're diagnosed with after reading this, either.

**READ AND REVIEW, PLEASE! **

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**_Chapter 1 _**

It was a bleak setting. No air past in the non-existent atmosphere. The air in fact, was stale and suffocating. The only thing noticeable other than that, was the frigid cold that cut through it like a knife would. As a result, everything was dead. Any trees left standing were bare and scraggly, bark peeling from the very intensity of the arctic weather. Snow lay on the ground, but not powdery or peaceful. It made the earth look even more dead than it already was. Patches under trees where snow had failed to reach only added to it. The grass wasn't just dead, but brown and ugly as well. Patches of dirt could be seen among this last remnant of plant.

A deep piercing scream interrupted midnight stillness, disturbing once peaceful tranquility. As if to reply, a strident gust of air blaster through the trees causing screeches to erupt from gaps in the tree branches. Under a particularly scraggly tree sat a boy, perched carefully on his haunches. As he moved his pale hand up to his hair, pain tore all the way from his temples all the way up to a spot near his ear. After lowering his hand to gaze at what lay within his grasp, his eyes widened in disbelief.

A thick chunk of hair lay within the palm of his hands. The strands were a charcoal black, accented by spots of blood that dotted his hand. Quickly, he turned back to his original intent. Gazing back at him from a pool of more crimson substance, he stared with trepidation. Looking back at him was a fully detailed reflection, colors easily distinguished on the liquid's glassy surface. A black mane identical to the strands he had pulled out made his chalky while pallor of his skin stick out more than ever. What really attracted his attention were dull grey eyes gazing back at him, shining dissonantly in the moonlight while still seeming to be able to remain close to the epitome of lifelessness.

His eyes were wide as saucers in disbelief. He put his hands up to his temples and massaged them roughly while trying to clear his thoughts. The silence was so frightening that he almost screamed out again simply to break it. His gaze quivered, jumping between emotions. Tears threatened escape, the only reminder of a shattered soul, broken into pieces by the sight of his deathly appearance. Fear engulfing him, the young man wondered if he was dead. He was not this person. He was beautiful. What lay here was only the fractured remains of a broken soul, hurt by something more violent than Satan himself. Such vanity would get him nowhere, but he didn't care.

As another cry pushed itself from his throat, he pondered upon the odd reflection, unsure of what it meant. Surely, it could not be himself. His eyes were certainly not grey! Trying to gather his thoughts together, he nearly fell forward, only managing barely to steady himself. With a light twinge of apprehension, he reached forward to touch the glassy surface. For a second, the fingertips paused over it, as if he expected it to be acid. He vividly winced before dipping down quickly to touch it. He watched with profound curiosity as his reflection distorted, most visible was a pale hand, his own. He watched quietly as once again, he removed his fingertips then brought them back down again. A sudden feeling of foreboding, making him cringe, stopped his actions. The silent pause, a lapse from life itself truly drew a gasp out of him. He felt frightened, one feeling that he wasn't generally exposed to.

As he turned his gaze warily he heard a soft growl. Within no more than a moment later, he found a black blur crossing his view. Anxiety growing, he wheeled around to find a small fox standing no more than a few meters away from him. Its pelt was the deepest shade of black while its eyes glowed the darkest shade of crimson possible. Before he was even able to brace himself, the creature launched itself at him, a maddening growl rumbling from its throat.

Even before he could think, the fox had thrown itself upon his chest, knocking the breath out of him and in the process, sending him backwards into the crimson substance with a splash. Under the fox's weight, he found himself pinned painfully. The canine had latched its teeth firmly onto his neck while he tried to struggle. However how much force he used, his body wouldn't move. He felt suffocated, restricted. With a quick glance down, melting away from reality, he found himself restricted by strong chains. Sudden panic arose through him as the fox bit down harder, tearing off a chunk of flesh hungrily. One last scream tore from him before blackness engulfed him, only one last image of the fox looking at him, blood dripping down its muzzle.

And then, he was falling. There was nothing more frightening than that. Numerous cries for help echoed throughout empty darkness. Nobody answered. His eyes weren't doing their job, seeing as the only thing he could see was the clear imprint of the dark backs to his eyelids. Tears falling haplessly from his eyes burned his face like acid. He was dying, and there was nothing he could do about it. There wasn't even anybody there to offer him a comforting place to fall to endless rest.

His eyes snapped open, jarred quickly to attention by the strong sensation resembling that of being thrown across a room. He could feel his heart beating out of his chest, each breath coming as a ragged gasp. Almost by instinct, his hand flew up to his neck, running up and down the expanse of flesh as if searching for something. His frantic touch slowed as he merely continued to graze his fingertips lightly over his smooth flesh. It took him a few seconds for him to recognize his surroundings. He lay on a makeshift bed, its covers worn from age. The mattress was slightly squashy and insecure. However, this was what he was used to.

A small strip of light fell onto his bed, coming obviously from the open door that led to a narrow hallway. This meant someone was up. Knowing the sleeping habits of those he lived with, he estimated it to be quite late. His eyelids already drooped with fatigue brought on by the abrupt halt in his sleeping pattern. A faint silhouette blocked out all light for one second in turn making him jump out of his skin. He could feel the hair on the back of his neck prick for a moment, adrenaline combined from the dream and now the sudden shock racing through his veins. Its effect froze him for a moment as a familiar figure entered. One second after that, the boy felt relief flood his veins. He allowed his breathing to slow while gently acknowledging the presence that came before him.

"Hiei" he whispered softly, deathly tone echoing off the walls. Nervousness abated, he turned to get a better look at the man. His hair was as usual, a gravity defying style colored raven black. The only thing to counteract it was a white starburst in the front. A pair of stylish black sunglasses, as always, concealed his eyes.

"You're an idiot. What the hell's eating at you tonight, Kurama?" the question held more concern than anything, despite the tone. So as to collect his thoughts, he quickly rubbed his temples while searching for whatever sanity the nightmare had torn away. Though his body throbbed and ached, it still felt to be in one piece. As he shivered, he twirled a few strands of healthy hair around his fingers; he was relieved only to see that they weren't black, but their regular shade of beautiful crimson.

"It was simply an odd dream, nothing else. Don't worry about it; I've already forgotten what it was about. May I ask why you're around at this time?" he glanced at the clock resting upon his nightstand. It read an hour completely ungodly, even for one such as Hiei. He had lied about the first part. He was still pondering upon the meaning of the dream. It didn't seem to make any sense. Questions were still running through his head, but he forced them back quickly.

"Don't flatter yourself so much. I'm not worried. I've an important thing for you to do for me. Seeing as you're already awake, I'm sure you wouldn't mind doing it for me. You're the only one suited for the job, and it's been held off much too long already." Hiei informed in a cool voice. Kurama always wondered how he could hold so much authority and command in his voice and still not have to force people to do things. Hiei seemed to be a natural born leader. Kurama simply nodded and encouraged him to go on. He was curious as to what might be so important.

"Well, you know who Karasu is, correct? He leads that gang that rivals us for a place here. I need you to deliver a message to him for me. You're the only one I can trust not to start a riot." Kurama rubbed fatigue out of his eyes. Still, he wondered what Hiei was doing here in the middle of the night. However much he wanted to simply go back to sleep, he couldn't.

About a year ago, he'd been forced away from his home due to an unfortunate chain of events. Being only a teen in high school, the only jobs he'd be able to get weren't good enough to provide enough for him. He'd resorted to living on the streets eating nothing but the cheapest food without a home to go to. It was hard to find work without the assurance that he had a home. Many people nowadays would only take you if it could be proven that you wouldn't simply run out on them. When work had finally ran out, he became thin, rarely withdrawing from his small territory he'd established in the very back of an alleyway. Hiei had changed that. He'd promised that so long as he did whatever work there was that he'd provide room and board free of charge to him. As odd as it may have seemed to him at the time, Hiei was leader of a very organized and infamous gang. They had status and arrangement near that of the mafia.

Yes, he was certainly grateful for that. He would've either starved to death or become a common prostitute had Hiei not picked him up. So, he quickly nodded in agreement to Hiei's request. "Fine, then. It shouldn't be that hard for you to find where he's located; I have the address on the back of the envelope for you. When you get there all you need to do is ask to see Karasu. They shouldn't ask too many questions, and it'll be safe. They wouldn't harm somebody coming to see their leader. Take the envelope to him and simply deliver it to him. Also, it would be nice if you apologize for me for the delay." Kurama nodded and took the envelope that Hiei offered him. Without their farewells, Kurama walked out the door.

After a while, Hiei sighed. He walked out to watch Kurama walk southward until he was out of his sights. Quietly, he lowered his sunglasses a little to get a better look. Kurama was smiling as he walked down a sidewalk, looking up at the sky, which was still dark from such late hours. He pondered upon it quietly, contemplating how life had been taking care of Kurama over the last year. The seventeen-year-old was oddly mature and low maintenance so he was glad for that. He didn't have patience when it came to dealing with kids.

Kurama walked casually along the sidewalk, smiling up at the sky. To be frank, he was very glad that Hiei had let him go for a few hours. He'd walk for a while after delivering this message to Karasu. He was really glad that although he had to do whatever Hiei wanted him to do, that he had a good deal of freedom. He'd expected that the way Hiei'd been acting as of late that he'd at least be a little bit more… protective of him. He didn't know Hiei to be protective, as it didn't coincide with his personality. Never in the two year's he'd been with Hiei had he seen him the slightest bit concerned over anyone. Now, it wasn't as if he thought that Hiei cared for him. Hiei only provided for him, but he was still oddly stricter then he should've been.

He searched the descending addresses for the one that matched the one that Hiei had given to him. As Hiei had said, it was relatively simple. The real message had been 'Go take this to Karasu and then you're free to do whatever for a few hours.' He smiled as he found the address. After knocking on the door politely, he was greeted by a gruff man. "What do you want?" he asked in a disgruntled voice. He only smiled and bid the man good morning in his regular polite voice. "I wish to see Mr. Karasu. Is there any chance you can introduce me to him?"

"Who sent you?" he asked suspiciously. Kurama was able to understand why he was acting so closed off. As he didn't find any harm in telling the truth, he didn't choose to make up a story. "Hiei has a message for him. It isn't anything bad, but he wishes for me to give it to him.

"Fine," he replied before wielding a sharp pocketknife and steering him inside. "I'm telling you, though, if you turn out to be lying, I'll enjoy making you death one of the most painful anyone's ever heard of." Kurama nodded and forced himself not to look at the blade. Being steered off, he was led down a few twisted corridors and into a room.

As they went into a room, the man spoke. "Karasu, he wished to see you. If he bothers you, let me know. I'll take care of him for you. He says that he has a message from Hiei, though." When the door shut behind him, he only expected a cold remark. Tales woven of Karasu's unkindness in general were popular among Hiei's men. Kurama waited at the door until Karasu spoke.

"Come here, I don't bite. I am curious as to what Hiei wants me to know, though." Apprehensively, he approached Karasu. There seemed to be some malevolent force surrounding him. However, the warmth of the tone was inescapable. It was a tone that Hiei seriously lacked. He handed Karasu the note without question and then stepped back. This behavior had all been acquired from living with Hiei. He knew very well Hiei didn't like kids, especially when they were disrespectful. He didn't want to get on anyone's bad side and end up on the street again. People weren't kind towards the homeless in this city.

He studied the man suspiciously for a moment. The color of his hair was the exact same shade of charcoal black that his had been in his most recent nightmare. He also noted the rest of the man's features in a careful, observant manner. He was clad in black attire similar to that of which Hiei wore. However, the rival was also a good deal taller than Hiei without the odd gravity defying hairstyle. Glasses were perched near his eyes as he read a book casually. After a minute of Karasu reading, he looked up at Kurama again.

"So, what's your name?" he asked softly, coaxing Kurama to come closer. There didn't seem to be anything wrong with it, but Kurama's better instinct warned him against it. It was so hard to resist. He hadn't heard anyone use such a tone towards him for a really long time. It seemed like an eternity. Now that he was so used to cold tones, he couldn't trust the kinder ones. The kindness seemed like it was being forced. After all, Karasu was very intimidating, maybe even more so than Hiei. Slowly, tentatively, he treaded closed, keeping his gaze even with Karasu's. It wasn't that he was frightened, but he was being careful. Hiei wouldn't be pleased with him if he got hurt or captured. He felt a set of hands reach out and pull him the rest of the way. His feet dragged against the floor, but he didn't resist much. He tensed as Karasu evened their views with one another once again and took his chin in his hand. "Now, your name can't be that bad. Tell me, it's not like I'm going to hurt you for it." Within a minute, Kurama swallowed and looked Karasu right in the eyes. He seemed sincere enough…

"It's Kurama." He replied, quietly. He watched without interest as a smirk grew on Karasu's face. To be frank, although he sensed danger, he was really just playing towards it with anticipation. The violet eyes watched his own with mild interest, allowing Kurama time to figure out what his impression of him was. A tense silence passed between them, more so on Kurama's part. Karasu simply stood there holding his wrists in an almost bruising manor. The redhead was able to tell that Karasu was waiting for him to speak, something important too. It made him want to move away, making it seem like Karasu's intentions were growing at his own thoughts.

For the fist time in his life, he found himself fumbling over words, worried that what he said wouldn't be what was supposed to be said. Karasu's ominous aura hovering in the air kept him paralyzed and mesmerized at the same time. It was so odd… how he seemed to be able to convey direct orders without words at all. As a few moments passed, his eyes were narrowed into slits. Not even Hiei was allowed to hold this much power over him. Briefly, he jerked his wrists back against his better instinct. Immediately his mind screamed to him in anger, emphasizing only one word, 'mistake'. He almost laughed bitterly from it, simply because Karasu hadn't reacted to his sudden choice of action.

"I'm sorry, but I really must go. I've got a job I need to do." Basically, this was an all-out lie. He simply wanted to get away from Karasu. He had a feeling something bad was going to happen soon. While he waited for the words signaling Karasu bidding Kurama farewell, he glanced down at his wrist. Already, dark bruises had formed in place of the crushing grip. Karasu looked with interest, almost missing the short-lived glint of curiosity flickering through the young boy's gaze at the sight of the injury.

"Really? I'd think you'd enjoy staying with me a few minutes more. Won't you, Kurama?" was his reply only seconds later. He grabbed the shocked redhead back him, imprisoning him with his strong hold. When the boy began to pull away, he encircled to redhead's left wrist in a tighter grip, experimenting a theory that had just formed in his head. Flustered, the kid fell still within his grip, an unmistakable gasp passing his lips. It did not prove his theory, though. The basic question was: how? He was much too young and innocent. He planted a hand on the side of Kurama's face and forced their gazes to meet again. He removed his hand from the wrist and dragged his nails roughly up across the expanse of the skin on the arm. While doing this, he kept his eyes fixed solely on the captive's gaze, noting the nature of the expression and other inclinations that might be hinted there as well.

It was almost amusing, watching how the face faltered, Kurama fighting for control over his own expression. Emerald orbs were twice as wide as normal and he began to tremble in his captor's hold. He watched again with sinister fascination as he increased the pressure, drawing blood from the pale skin. There was no control in the moan that escaped his lips. A sharp gasp came to follow next.

Reluctant as he was to stop, Karasu withdrew the hand on Kurama's arm. So, he had proven that he was right. This boy was indeed a masochist, no doubts included. It was one that seemed to be composed entirely of uncontrolled pleasure. Wherever Kurama had picked up that way of thinking was well beyond him. However, it was something that he most likely kept as a well-guarded secret. Otherwise, he would most likely not have a job working for Hiei. This was indeed a rare prize he had been given, and the innocence magnified the satisfaction of knowing it was he who had received this gift multiply tenfold. To think it was Hiei who was the one who brought this upon the redhead. It almost made him rethink the idea of rivalry with the gang leader.

With a quick shift in movements, he had pinned the redhead against a wall and had pressed his lips against the softer set harshly. He could feel the sharp intake of breath, and he could feel incessant trembling under his bruising hold. The redhead was finally allowing his urging senses to win him over. He allowed his arms to claw back into the taller one's hair, coaxing him to grip harder; anything so long as in brought forth more pain. There was absolutely no way to hold back the moan that escaped his lips in turn. He never thought his senses could be driven off course so wildly by such a thing as simple pain. Without protesting at all, he allowed Karasu to ravage him as he saw fit.

Such things were all a blur to him. All he was able to keep aware of was the pain, which was being inflicted upon him. Yet it didn't bother him. He knew that it should, that he should be screaming out, maybe even sobbing from it. Despite what he knew, no such thing happened. It all seemed oddly exquisite to him. He kept telling himself that it wasn't natural, but everything was counteracting it. Blood trailing down his arm made him shiver. At one moment, a cool, pale hand came to smear it across his skin. The trail led upward onto his shirt, then onto his neck. He was only vaguely aware of bony fingers leaving trails of blood in their path as they traced the smooth contours of his cheekbones. Another moan pressed at the back of his throat, he was slammed into a wall again, without any gentle actions to counteract it. Karasu's mouth, at one point or another, caught a few cries that escaped past his lips as well.

Though there was a voice at the back of his head telling him to shove Karasu away and gain back his pride, the masochistic instinct coursed through him fully, stimulating him to search for pain in this. It was unbelievable, yet tempting that he wanted Karasu to inflict such pain. He'd never felt like it before. Briefly, he wondered if everyone was like this. The knowledge of what exactly he was feeling was all too tempting for him not to search for an answer to it. At that point, Karasu released him and allowed the boy to collapse to the floor, an unbidden groan of protest escaping him against his better wishes. Karasu knelt down and stroked his unmarred face in an almost tender fashion.

"You'll come to see me again soon, won't you Kurama?" he asked softly, his general cold tone settling back in. Though it was far different than the type of tone that had drawn him near Karasu in the first place, he not only didn't notice it, but it was also most likely wouldn't have cared even if he had. Without hesitation, he nodded his head curtly, still unable to speak. Another devious smirk set in again as he guided his new companion towards the door without words. He pushed Kurama out quickly and smirked yet again. This seemed to be the right answer, for Karasu smirked. As a reward, he felt a gentle stroke tickling the spot near the underside of his left wrist. Long fingers remained dangerously close to the artery. This made him shiver out of pure pleasure. He could only feel the sensation of his skin being broken as a light tingle. His eyes were hazy with grogginess and pleasure.

"Well then, I'll be seeing you around. You should probably get back to Hiei. After all, you wouldn't want him to… worry." With another slight nudge, he had Kurama down the twisting hallway again and back by the front door. Kurama cringed with distaste at the musty smell that lingered here. It reminded him of rotting fish or something of the sort that was decaying. Without much choice, he was drawn into a demanding kiss with Karasu.

After considering the fact that they were practically making out within the first hour they met, he almost pulled away like he had tried to before. Nothing seemed wrong with it, though. So silently, he pressed his body back against Karasu's before pulling away on the other man's cue. Karasu gave the redhead another quick shove. With that, he was out the door, still staring in bewilderment at Karasu. He felt a blush arise at the embarrassment of the situation. He knew that what he had just done had been extremely foolish. If he was very lucky, he could only hope that this wouldn't create a problem.

Broken from his trance, he turned to walk away, his hair being picked up by a light gust of wind. After walking for less than even a few seconds, he turned to look back over his shoulder at Karasu. His quiet semblance began to falter as he watched the violent gaze pierce his own. The very glance showed a passion for suffering Kurama had never known that someone was able to posses. Briefly, he shivered because of it, only to find a minute later that he was getting lost in it. It sensation almost felt like drowning. He watched curiously as the fierce gaze narrowed, trying to covey a message. No matter how hard he strained his mind to try and figure out what the man was trying to say, he failed at each attempt within seconds.

Now, without much desire for farewell, he turned to walk away for real this time. The leader said nothing as he watched him go. He was more intrigued with the slender, feminine figure. Though the teen's back was turned, he could still sense the sadistic, calculating gaze boring into him harshly. Though still caught up in what had just happened recently, he still felt unable to bear the creepy man staring as a stalker might have. He almost felt like it was some maniac's idea of a way to drive someone to the point of insanity. He broke into a run, a cold sweat trickling down his neck despite himself. With a glance at his wristwatch, his eyes widened. He couldn't believe how long it had taken him to deliver the message and get back.

In his state of panic, he tripped over a rock, skidding a few feet before coming to a complete stop. He cursed as he took a look at his arm. The one that had already been marred by Karasu was completely free of any new wounds. With a slight groan in disapproval to his clumsiness, he pushed himself. He cared nothing of the cuts that were now bleeding. If it was even more in favor of his luck, the wounds Karasu had given on the other limb had opened back up as well. He rolled his eyes and climbed the stairs to Hiei's apartment. In a situation such as this, he would have usually just gone home. He already was sure that Hiei wouldn't be pleased with the amount of time it took him to get back, not even bringing in to account the face that he had long cuts traveling across his arms. It stood out to him that he needed bandages and antiseptic. Unfortunately, he had nothing of the sort back where he lived. Unless he wished to be forced to go see a doctor next week because of infection, it would be smart to get at least some disinfectant.

Hiei glared at him dismissively as he entered and plopped down in a chair next to where the shorter one sat. He could see his gaze immediately snap to his marred skin, even if he wasn't able to see his eyes. Upon inspection, he scowled deeply and grabbed one of his arms to take a closer look. He could tell the man was holding back quite a lot of anger, simply due to the fact that his aura was radiating of fury. "What the hell happened to you arms?" he asked. The very tone made Kurama wince worse than anything else that could've happened.

"I just fell, I was being clumsy." He mentioned casually, a tone that was used to persuade someone even as doubtful as someone like Hiei. He felt a rough prod press the skin near where one long cut began. Coincidentally, it just so happened to be the arm that had been marred by Karasu. He pulled Kurama a little closer to him and gave a glare, making eye contact directly as he pulled him a little closer to further inspect the wound. The redhead felt his eyes widen. Rarely was a time that Hiei made direct eye contact. Well, he at least thought that it was direct eye contact. He really couldn't see his eyes, even when they were no more than a foot away from each other.

"No, I meant _this _arm," he replied, prodding roughly again to stress his point. This was surprising. Was there a chance that Hiei knew about this and was just testing him? He could've been following him this whole time, just to see if he would really obey direct orders. If that was the case, then he actually knew what had gone on between him and Karasu. He swallowed a lump in his throat and took a second to think. Though it didn't feel right to lie to Hiei, he didn't want to reveal what had happened without having to fight tooth and nail with Hiei just to be persuaded to tell the truth. It felt almost embarrassing in a way to think about Hiei knowing his secrets. Not to mention, as Karasu had brought earlier, it was most likely Hiei would kick him out if he found out that he was a masochist.

"Hiei, I told you already, I fell. Is there no such thing as scraping both arms?" Hiei still looked disbelieving as he went to the kitchen and retrieved something from the cabinet.

"Are you absolutely sure? I'm hoping that you'd at least tell me if he did something to you like that." Kurama shook his head softly and looked down as Hiei approached him again. With one rough toss, Hiei passed the roll of bandages and the bottle of antiseptic to Kurama, giving and annoyed sigh while taking one last glance over in the redhead's direction. After quickly glancing out the window he sighed and headed near his room.

"Wait! Can't we talk, Hiei?" asked Kurama. Though Hiei was never much of the talking kind, he felt like he needed to talk to him now more than ever. He had been feeling that something bad was going to happen, and it didn't help that he had to deal with it alone. He looked into Hiei's eyes while trying to decipher some emotion related somewhat to sympathy. Unsurprisingly, he found no such evidence of emotion even slightly close to it.

"Tomorrow," he said, just loud enough to be heard by the boy sitting across the room. Without much regard, he then walked into his room and slammed the door. A few seconds later, the audible click of the lock echoed through the empty room. Shuuichi took it as his cue to go watch the sunrise out the kitchen window. He gave a tired sigh and issued a yawn. He sometimes wondered how Hiei and all his gang members lived this type of life. They were nocturnal, rarely being seen in the daytime. Of course, sometimes a colleague of Hiei's would occasionally invite him out to lunch at noon or something of the sorts. In general, anyone affiliated with Hiei slept during the day and went about business at night. He supposed that it was something that he could get used to over time, but still had trouble imagining living that way. With a tired sigh and no regard to his wounds, open and still bleeding, he headed towards his designated room.

His tired mind flashed to a memory from his childhood, reminding him dimly of Karasu. It had included a strange man. He could remember holding his hand, but was unable to remember his appearance. His hand had been bleeding, and he had been crying his eyes out for a sudden absence of something long cherished. The man's hands were cold, yet they were strong enough to wipe away his tears. Traces of the man sitting him on a dumpster and licking his hands clean of blood were there, too. He could only faintly remember how the lips had gently caressed each of his fingertips before traveling to lap off the blood and dirt. It seemed magical to him that seconds later, the cuts had stopped bleeding. Promptly, the man had wrapped his hand in a handkerchief before darting off into the shadows of an alley. He silently traced the wounds Karasu had inflicted and whispered soundless words, wondering if he really would meet Karasu again.


	2. Chapter 2

**_Destin Enchaîné_**

Me: I know I promised that I wouldn't update for a while. I'm sorry about that. I promise that I will update my other one by next week. Here you have it, my computer is fully up and running again. I'm very happy to say that you'll be seeing a lot more frequent updates on my part. All warnings and disclaimers were mentioned in chapter one, and will not be repeated.

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_**Chapter Two**_

Gray orbs flickering, a teen turned his gaze upwards. He had been transported back to his bleak and desolate homeland, the world of his dreams. It was colder this time, oh so colder. Squeezing his arms weakly around him, he tried desperately to retain the last remaining bit of his body heat. His warm breath condensed into clouds around him as he shivered. Prickles of dread along with the biting cold journeyed along his spine. He was beginning to get frustrated with himself. His tranquil nature was chased away every time he revisited this hostile panorama. Nothing in the world could make him think pure thoughts right now.

The haunted feel of the place imprisoned him. It bound further than the strongest chain could. Though he willed himself of move, just to get away from the dreadful place, his limbs remained unresponsive. One or twice, he was being suffocated by the vast cold. He couldn't take a breath for his lungs remained compressed. Nothing but silence passed when his lips turned blue. Tears collecting at the corners of his eyes from lack of air, he hugged himself tighter. Shortly after the last tendril of body warmth whittled away, he found himself able to breathe again. Nothing good seemed to come without side effects, though.

Visions of blood and terror would not leave his gaze. He knew he was hallucinating. That didn't stop him from drawing his arms around him and allowing a loud cry to escape his mouth. The incessant trembling was strong enough to be from a seizure. It hurt to move, but he couldn't stop no matter how hard he tried. He wanted stillness, a comfort brought on by rest. His eyes remained snapped open wide, breath shaky and rasping.

These visions were enough to transport him to another land. This was a land of not only death, but blood and hatred as well. The warm, stale wind carried dry twigs and dead grass. He was alone, and his presence reverberated like an echo off of a wall. This place was empty, silent, yet it held nothing but fear and foreboding. It was then he realized who exactly was on this battlefield. Friends and past family lay slaughtered; their bodies were mutilated to a point of bare recognition. Body parts laying everywhere stained the ground. Endless red carpet, and the inescapable gore of the scene around him surrounded him. Like most would, he felt like throwing up. The horrified expressions on some of the less mangled faces warned him of extreme pain.

There was someone there, holding him throughout time, never letting go. Yet at the same time, his feelings were counteracting each other so violently. His vision spun and the world blurred through unfocused eyes. Blood again, flowed down from a wound to the head. The violent pain remained sharp as a knife. The pain in his chest, the sensation of falling, it all mixed together for a deadly combination. And it only had just hit him. Out of nowhere, there was the warmth of another person's arms. For that to happen, there had to be someone there. Someone alive. The person holding him was the only thing that remained secure. The rest of the world trembled violently. The fragments of shattered landscape passing by him reminded him of broken panes of glass. It was only then that he reached forward to touch them. Blood welled up on his fingers as a result. He nursed the injury with his good hand, tightly shutting his eyes.

He was still insecure. In the arms of his captor, his body was aflame with sensation. Burning skin was pressing against his body, making him dizzy while at the same time, making him more and more passionate. Through a squinted gaze, he tried to figure out who was causing this pain, this violent clash of conflicts within his soul.

There wasn't just pain or terror in his head, but an odd calmness. Nothing made sense anymore, he thought as he struggled desperately with the force that held him compellingly to the spot where he knelt. Nothing in the world could be compared to how he felt now. He was trapped and imprisoned, bound and degraded. He held his hands over his eyes as a heavy downpour, a mixture of rain and blood hammered down on them. It had the force capable of nailing him effortlessly to the ground, yet strong arms continued to hold him up. The pounding of his heart resounding in his ears was beginning to make him feel faint and dizzy. Despite his hatred against the person imprisoning him, he felt as if it was worse once he felt the presence disappear altogether. He felt lost and alone. Slamming his fists into the ground, he began to sob loudly. It only horrified him when he discovered that his tears were black like ink. They left perpetual trails of darkness on his cheeks where they had slid down. Hurriedly trying to wipe them away, he wondered what in the world was wrong with him.

More than a few times he felt fluid rise in his throat, and he was only able to choke on it. A taste mixed with blood and bile was repugnant on his tongue, it made his cringe. The invasion of an unwanted presence was thick in his mind, and he scraped his nails across his temples. Now, this was different. He didn't just feel fear, but intrusion as well. Another conscience was probing his mind, searching for something. A short-lived scream echoed in the stagnant atmosphere. "Get out of my head!" His soft utterance echoed for a moment's time before he fell to the ground. Whoever his invader was, they didn't care about his sanity. Bit by bit, it was being unwillingly torn away from him. His gaze remained widened, a fractured expression eminent. What he wouldn't give for a kind shoulder to lean on right now…

What he wished for, he actually received for once. A gentler presence approached him and he could feel himself being pulled up into strong arms once again. Never had complete refuge came without the smallest amount of insecurity, at least. There was a danger all it's own to the person holding him. His intentions may have been good, but he had the aura of a serial killer. Within a moment of being subjected of the strength offered, he began to tremble again. For a moment, he struggled, mouth agape and eyes laced with distrust. This wasn't what he wanted. Wishing to be free, he did the most rare thing for he was known to do, thrash about violently, incessantly. A soft voice comforted him, or at least tried to do that. The voice was familiar to a point where he automatically trusted it. Though it was calling out to him coldly, he knew it well enough. He basked in it as if it were the warmest thing in the world. Yet there was still something insecure about the tone. His thrashing was making itself more known by the moment. A soft protest being uttered, he excused himself from the hold of his captor. His eyes widened softly. The man standing before him wasn't human. It looked a lot like the fox from before. While his form remained rather human, pointed fox ears poked from his head and he word a theatre mask that hid the features of his face. He was clad in something very oriental, an expensive foreign fabric he was unable to identify.

A sharp prick shot through his leg, brought on by a sharp, gleaming set of teeth. Automatically, he knew whom, or so to properly say, _what _it had been. Haunting, glowing red eyes were studying him intently. He sensed the ravenous nature the animal radiated of. This time, however, he wasn't going to allow it to harm him. Kicking the fox hard when it ran at him, he watched as it skidded across the ground with a wraithlike howl. That was a mistake, for the howl was not that of pain. He had invoked a rage like nothing else because of this. The man who had been holding him earlier walked forward and grabbed his shoulders in a secure hold. The touch stung, delivering unbelievable agony. He was bleeding again. Crimson blinded his gaze as it slid leisurely down the contours of his face. He couldn't tell where it came from, blinded by the sea of endless red. All he could feel was the man's hands looped around his torso and the fox's teeth embedded in his leg. He waited for the final blow, a signal to show that it had ended. Anything so long as this pain ended soon.

Nothing of the sort came.

For the second time that day, Kurama awoke frightened and tired. Yet he was still in his own bed. There was nothing wrong with him other than that which had been knowingly inflicted earlier. This time, he felt more fear. It was almost like a he was a little child who had a nightmare. What could be basically called his 'Monster under the bed' was now his nighttime duo of the fox and the masked man. The two partners, seemingly intent on his suffering and confusion were now eminent figures in his wild mind. Almost terrified, he ran around his room, checking to see that nobody was hiding. There was nobody, as expected. He sighed and hit his forehead. He was being childish. There was no such thing as a fox with glowing red eyes, or a man who had fox ears. This was all in his imagination and it was working him up.

Once again, he cursed himself for being foolish. Yet there was still a fear there. Though knowing it was stupid, he checked his closet up and down once more just to see that there wasn't anyone there. To his relief no such thing was there. All he was able to find were a few old boxes covered in cobwebs, along with a spare set of blankets and some of his outfits hanging on hangers. Just like his bed, this was something familiar to him. It was nothing short of a sanctuary. He quietly grabbed the spare blanket and wrapped himself in its warmth. After shifting a few boxes over, he leaned up against a wall and forced himself to relax.

Somehow, he could feel the sensation of drifting back to his dream. It was frightening. The blood, he could still smell it and feel it. The only question that remained was something that puzzled even him. Why did he not mind pain when Karasu inflicted it? Again, he felt extremely guilty. The idea of it sickened him now. He was so scared of his dreams, yet he wasn't scared of real pain. It was very pitiful. A sharp sting reminded him of the cuts he had neglected to bandage. At the current moment, he couldn't find a reason in the world why he should care. It wasn't that he was generally negligent of pressing matters, but he was too distracted. The dream pressed his mind and made his vision fuzzy. It was only then that he knew wasn't actually alone now. He didn't know when the presence had joined him, but he must have been very deep in thought not to notice. Two men, one a carrot top and one with handsome brown orbs were both studying him intently. He felt the urge to scream out, yet he didn't. He had trouble finding his voice at the time. Numerous times, he opened his mouth with the intention to speak. He could muster no strength to speak. The first man, the carrot top spoke first.

"You alright, Kurama? You were screaming." The guilty realization then hit him again. He could barely breathe now. How many people had he woken up because of this? He was too lost in thought to answer. It was only when he felt his shoulder being grabbed that he snapped out of it. With a yelp, he scooted away from both boys so that they wouldn't touch him again. Luckily, the closet's darkness and the blanket covering his body prevented them from seeing his injury. He was glad for that, because it wasn't a cause for concern. His friends were much more caring then Hiei was. They'd go through much trouble if they saw he was hurt. Kurama didn't like to see that.

He was muttering meaningless words to himself now, as if he was possessed. The pain of his throbbing head brought on a dream-like state. It hurt to think, so he just tried to fall back asleep. Seeing that he was nodding off, his friends were worried. "Kurama, buddy," the dark-haired one asked. "You sure you're alright? Did you have a bad dream or something?" The concern was something that he generally wished for. He expected nothing less than that from the boys. For now, he could care less about anything of the sort.

Muttering something along the lines of "I'm fine Yuusuke, now leave me alone. Nightmares are childish." he slouched against a warm shoulder. He knew he was being rude. They were asking a question out of pure concern. They cared for him. Though he knew he shouldn't dismiss them like this, he was much too tired now. He wanted to contemplate the dream ALONE. He didn't need someone to ask him all about it.

Yet they still looked concerned. "Kurama, does this have anything to do with Hiei?" they asked at the same time. Kurama looked quite startled. Why had they asked question? How could they possibly factor him in to any of this. The only thing that the man affiliated himself as was his partial caretaker. Both Yuusuke and Kuwabara knew Hiei expected Kurama to deal with things on his own. They also knew that besides slight pity, Hiei cared nothing for Kurama. They could only be considered slight friends, as of now.

"No, Yuusuke. I don't even understand why you'd think that. If you don't mind, I'd rather go back to bed now. If you really want to talk, we can do that later. I'm tired, guys" They looked nothing short of disbelieving. They knew there was something wrong. It was in the redhead's nature to keep problems to himself. Once, he had actually sprained his ankle falling down a staircase at night. For a week, he had dealt with the injury in silence, walking with a barely disguised limp. It wasn't until Hiei noticed horrible swelling on his leg that he got treated for anything. And still then, at the doctor's he'd been protesting that he was fine. His excuse was that he had pulled a muscle. The severity of the sprain, however, counteracted any evidence of a minor injury.

"Explain, Kurama. I don't like to see you in pain," replied Yuusuke a minute afterwards. The redhead silently drew his legs up to his chest and hugged them silently. He was on the verge of tears not from sadness, but from frustration. Why did they have to meddle in his affairs? Why couldn't they just leave him alone for once? He reminded himself once again that this was good, because it was what friends were supposed to do. There didn't seem to be anything positive in it, though.

"C'mon Kurama, you can tell us. Talking about it helps." Offered the carrot top sitting next to Yuusuke. He looked just as concerned as the person next to him was. He finally decided to talk, only because they were his friends.

"It was a dream. I was lost. There was a lot of blood and pain. I'm scared, that's all." He whispered softly. He of course, left out many of the significant parts. These dreams seemed private in a way. After a minute of them staring at him, he issued them a soft, kind smile. "I'm fine, Kuwabara. I just need to get some rest. The dream tired me out, you know?"

They still looked concerned, but shrugged it off. Seeing that Kurama was all right had been their original intent, after all. After a good ten minutes, Kurama finally managed to shoo them off. As soon as he could be sure that they had defiantly left his room, he crumpled to the closet floor. He was exhausted and wanted to sleep. Despite that, he couldn't allow himself it. His eyes were achy and seemed to be weighted down by fatigue. The prominent details to his dreams still haunted him. The torn up limbs… the blood running down his face. As it had for the last dream, it felt so real. He pushed himself up to his feet and exited, following a few passages back to a main room where he had abandoned the bandages earlier.

Forcing himself to sit, he began to survey the full extent of damage that the wounds had taken. The ones Karasu had inflicted were surprisingly less severe than the ones that he had gotten when he had tripped. That arm had slight cement burn; the skin that wasn't broken was red and peeling. Those spots were the tenderest part of the injury. After prodding the most sensitive skin a few times more, he went to work.

The first arm was fairly easy. It was simple cuts, all the way down. As it had been a human who inflicted them, his wounds weren't that deep. Swiping a cotton swab drenched in antiseptic was enough to do the trick. The next arm was trickier. His cuts were very deep, and though he hadn't noticed at the time, there was a chance of gravel being embedded in the cut. Without it being removed, the little pieces of dirt and cement would certainly prove to cause infection. He sighed and pulled up a pair of tweezers at that moment. Just because he enjoyed pain wouldn't mean that he'd exactly like prodding around a wound with a pair of tweezers. In fact, the very idea made him squeamish. Swallowing a lump in his throat, he rubbed a hand roughly across his scab until the wound was open and bleeding. After placing a towel under his wounded arm to catch the blood, he began.

His father had always told him what a good doctor that he'd make. Kurama had honestly never liked the idea. Though he could stand the idea of blood and gore, he couldn't stand drawing someone's blood or digging around with some metal instrument. But at this moment, there was no doctor to go and see. He had to act as his own caretaker or face the consequences later. The only idea he hated more was having antibiotics forced down his throat for a month to prevent sickness due to infection. He set the tweezers slightly on the edge of a particularly long cut and slid them directly onto it. He did not mind the pain, but the idea of having to do this type of thing made him wince. After finishing his careful inspection on the first wound, he cautiously moved on to the next. The metal encountered something rough and hard.

Twisting his head to confirm it, he set the tweezers around the solid object and gave a firm tug. It wouldn't budge. Narrowing his eyes, he quickly removed the instrument and wiped his hand on his shirt. It was slippery with sweat, the only sign of his nervousness. After replacing his hand and the metal object, he found his spot again. The rock was lodged in the skin, so it wouldn't be all that pretty when he finally managed to remove it. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut and gave another firm tug. He could tell that the rock had finally been removed or rather he could feel it. There was now a gaping hole in place of where the foreign object used to rest. This was considerably deeper than the rest, and it was gushing blood. It had already almost soaked through the towel he had set down entirely. Then, he turned to look at the rock he had pulled out. Slowly opening his eyes, his gaze immediately widened considerable. The object he had removed was not thick at all like most rock. In fact, it looked like a pint-sized version of a small dagger. It was long, and had been embedded into his cut like a knife stabbed through wood. Casually discarding it on the towel, Kurama went back to his frantic search. In all truth, he was extremely eager to get this over with.

While he was doing his inspection, it was hard to tell the difference between flesh and rock. Though they both had different textures to them, it felt the same if he were to tug on them. Rocks pulled up flesh when he did it, so unless he actually felt it or twisted around to look at it he was clueless. Really, he could have done without having to look and feel made him feel sick. His fingers, simply probing a little would get covered in blood again. Of course, he probably would have been a lot better off if he hadn't reopened the wound. He was loosing more blood than he had when he originally got hurt.

The teen was relieved when he finished the inspection. He hurriedly dabbed on antiseptic and wrapped bandaged on his arms as tightly as his circulation would allow. Sighing in relief, he turned to look out the window. Outside, he had a good view of the city. Kurama watched it for a little while and remained calm. Looking at the sky had always kept him in a fairly placid state. Lately, he had only been able to remain that way when people were around. Even Hiei had mentioned how tensed he was around other people, especially in the case of being around acquaintances. "You need to relax, idiot," he had told Kurama. "You're going to wear yourself down not even being able to stand the sight of your own shadow." Hiei was very right, but Kurama wasn't just ready to outwardly accept that. He felt that this change in behavior was for a reason. There was something coming, and something of a large magnitude. Of course, he hadn't told Hiei this. He knew what the leader's reaction would be. Most likely he would scorn and walk off, only to completely ignore him for an entire week.

After he finished the last of the bandaging, a lock clicked on the door of Hiei's room. After slipping out of the darkness, Hiei came to glare at the redhead tiredly. He looked out at the sky. Had twilight fallen so early? How had he slept so late while still feeling so tired? Hiei came to sit comfortable on a chair while staring intently at Kurama. A long silence passed between the two. It made Kurama tense, but Hiei remained as calm as ever.

"You're tense, you need rest," he repeated the phrase twice before he was actually able to understand it. Hiei was getting impatient. It only made Kurama slightly irritable. He looked over to Hiei questioningly, frustration showing through in his gaze. He bowed his head slightly and respectfully. After forcing himself to relax, he gave him his trademark smile. It was near a true one, bright, kind, and cheerful. It however lacked depth. So to say, it was only skin-deep. Automatically, Kurama could tell that it wasn't something pleasing to the gang leader.

"You've been dreaming again. What about this time?" he asked. As Kurama was about to shake his head 'no' when he felt a tight grip encircle his shoulder. "Tell me, I'm not foolish enough to ignore what you screamed in your sleep. You're scared, we both know that." He said coolly, watching Kurama gape at his accusation. He smirked softly. He had just cornered the teen where he hadn't wanted to be caught. Now Kurama would have to tell the truth. Hiei could always somehow sense lies.

"It was a dream. I guess I was just really scared. There was blood everywhere and people were mangled. Not to mention, it involved a fox man and a small black fox with glowing red eyes. I'm really okay, Hiei." He watched as the raven-haired man stood and sat down, so that he was facing Kurama's back.

"I don't really care about that, you know. I told you already not to flatter yourself." He whispered eerily as he reached ahead and placed his hands on the redhead's shoulders. Immediately, Kurama tensed again. Hiei made a harsh noise, signaling for Kurama to relax fully under his touch. To his surprise, the man's rough hands carefully kneaded away the knots and tension in his back. "I told you that you should relax more," he said, obviously satisfied that he had been right. Kurama was too comfortable to protest. Hiei HAD been right, after all. He DID need to relax. Almost instantly, the terror of his dream flittered away. Now he felt a warm drowsiness coming over him. He wanted now more than ever to fall asleep. And a few minutes later, that happened. Without much control over the matter, he slipped back onto a shocked and annoyed Hiei's lap. He could only smile from it.

After a few moments of making sure the redhead was really asleep, he abandoned his post at the couch to go look at the pitch-black night sky. With a quick glance back at Kurama, he was sure that there was something big coming, too.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Destin Enchaîné**_

Me: Here you are. There's actually some pretty nice cliffhangers in this chapter. The story's turning out to be a lot more mysterious then I originally intended. –Sigh- Again, I will update the other story, I'm just kinda dead on inspiration for it. Let's just say that it isn't my most favorite written work in the world. Sorry it took so long to update, between school, the animal shelter, and DDR, I've been extremely negligent of writing. Gomen Nasai. Be assured, though, I did love writing this chapter, interpretations on how you think the dreams and memories effect the story are most welcome. In fact, I'd very much appriciate to see how people percieve them. Yay DDR, though, I'm doing better every day. Oh, yes, and if you want a faster update, PLEASE REVIEW. I love to hear people's comments, good or bad. Okay, read on!

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Chapter 3**_

A light wind blew across the twilit landscape. It was cool; only a slight stench present in the air to remind one of the pollutants present in the air. Standing on a terrace outside, Hiei surveyed the city carefully. He had allowed his eyes to wander freely. Meanwhile, his sunglasses remained clutched securely within his grip, as if they were his most valued possession. It was rather chilly outside tonight, he decided. The air blowing past him had a rather defiant air to it. Truly, he didn't think there was such a thing as musty wind outside. Obviously, he had just proven wrong. The air had no scent to it. It did not excite him like it would any other time. Tonight, it seemed, the night world did not call to him. There were no adventures to be had, nothing to do. He leaned up against the balcony railing, bored out of his mind. It was still a little too early to be doing anything of large importance. Most everyone else was still sleeping. In general, they usually were active by ten o' clock. He stifled a yawn with his hand then turned his gaze back inside.

The adolescent redhead lay sprawled on the couch, fast asleep. He had curled into a secure ball, as if he was frightened of something. For now, he highly doubted it. Kurama actually looked calmer than he had in a long time. At least he wasn't screaming. That was beginning to annoy the leader. He wondered what the dreams were actually like. Were they really that frightening? He reminded himself that this was the first time he had ever seen the teenager that frightened out of his mind. It was as if a strange entity was haunting him. Also, he was sure to make note of how much paler he'd become. Once holding a healthy complexion, Kurama's skin had recently blanched to a color resembling pure white linen.

That long hair, the ridiculous style Kurama had refused to get cut… it now spilled over his shoulders, the color of fresh blood. Generally a silken mane, the hair was now slightly tangled and unruly from sleep. He walked back in and looked at a few particularly defiant strands that hung in the boy's face. He chuckled slightly and moved them back behind his ear. A slight frown passed his lips as he watched Kurama shift away from his fingers after immediate contact, a slight groan of incoherence passing his mouth in turn. He sighed softly and replaced his hand in its proper place. He knew he shouldn't be touching Kurama. If anything, he'd end up scaring Kurama more than any touch was worth. The boy was so jumpy lately that Hiei estimated he was going to make himself sick.

Ignoring the wishes his conscious mind was giving, he sat down next to where Kurama lay. Allowing his mind to wander, he softly looked back to Kurama. Well, he seemed to have actually calmed down a lot since he had come inside. He however, still remained in the fetal position, as if expecting to be hit or beaten. He reminded himself that he was being paranoid about it.

He was suspicious of whether or not Kurama was really telling him the truth about his rival. In his mind, he was making careful notes about the current state of the stressed teen. No matter what anybody said, he really did deep down care about Kurama as not only a guardian, but as a friend, even as a brother. Sure, he didn't show it, but he had never liked to outwardly show affection or inclination to anyone before. The redhead was supposed to be able to take care of himself without having to constantly be reassured. He refused to raise Kurama to be a weak-minded individual who hid behind someone constantly. Not that Kurama needed much help on that. After all, he was already a resolute person, worthy of respect in society. Hiei had no doubt in his mind that the boy would grow up to be someone of outstanding stature in the world. Inwardly, he laughed at his thoughts. He really shouldn't worry that much about what happened to Kurama when he grew up. Still, he felt oddly responsible for his fate. Perhaps it was a type of fatherly instinct, even if he was _technically _only four or five years older than him.

The seventeen year old shifted only slightly when Hiei reached out to stoke his cheek thoughtfully. Offhandedly, he began to wonder if Kurama would really be all right. Something sent up a red flag in his mind. Perhaps it was the simple fact that the teen had bad luck in life up until now, perhaps not. Easily brought to his mind were images of Kurama laying on the ground, form torn and bloody, eyes cold as stone. The very sight made him wince. Though many would claim the young man was perfectly able to take care of himself, he reminded himself of a fact of dire importance. No matter how much strength he would ever gain in this life, no matter how high a ranking he achieved, his body would always be delicate.

Fragile, frail, slim, they were all perfect descriptions on how exactly Kurama's body was built. If someone knew how to properly do it, Kurama was as easy to break as a thin pane of glass. There of course were consequences to anyone who did it. Kurama held a danger all his own that had given birth as soon as he was born. Anybody who dared try and ruin the beauty that rested before them risked being cut by an infinite wave of shards, sharper than any knife. His fingers paused from their regular actions as he felt the form beneath him exhale gently. Yes… Kurama's soul was exactly like glass. He however was so tempted to explore it. His personality held so many secrets, dark sides, and mysteries waiting to be solved. It was hard for Hiei not to dive in headfirst. Only his sanity kept him rooted to the spot. This WAS what danger Kurama held, the compelling beauty that could seduce the strongest person. Yet he was like the spirits that could lead men astray with their beauty, only for the mortal to find his downfall soon after.

"What 'cha doing, Hiei?" A casual, persistent voice behind him asked. Hiei jumped out of his seat, the hair on the back of his neck standing up. Quickly, he replaced the glasses he always wore and turned to see Yuusuke, who was sitting behind him, waving with a large smile plastered to his face. Hiei only rolled his eyes, for the sudden break in the serious moment was almost comical. He still had the typical frown on his face. He didn't laugh, nor did he ever smile. The only thing that was slightly close was the occasional smirk, or a dark chuckle elicited by something that was usually far from funny in a commoner's view. The frown remained tonight. Hiei, for once, wanted to be alone _with _Kurama. Yuusuke made it hard to think.

"What the hell do you want?" he asked pessimistically, glancing back at the redhead who lay before him. After turning back to Yuusuke, he saw that the man was also looking worriedly at the boy. His expression had changed from inane to solemn. He too, was worried about Kurama. It was something quite obvious.

"There's something wrong, you know? He's in pain, I can see it." Maybe this was one of the more observant things that the man had said in a while, Hiei thought. Thoughtfully, Hiei flicked his gaze once again to the slumped form lying on the couch next to him. After taking in the sound of his steady breathing and watching the soft rise and fall of his chest, he sighed softly, an uncharacteristic thing for him to do.

""It's nothing. I've already talked to him about it." He replied softly, his regular manner returning. After looking out the window, Hiei stood. Yuusuke looked questioningly at him.

"I'm going out. If you're planning to come with, get ready," he said simply. Once again, Yuusuke looked worriedly towards the redhead, who groaned slightly in his sleep but still managed to keep a pleasant expression. He could still clearly envision how gently Hiei had looked at the redhead, and how Kurama would never know it. If the teen were to be subject to such affection, he thought, then maybe he wouldn't be so closed off about his problems. He'd seen Kurama in pain before, and he'd been helpless to even offer the boy some comfort. However, the gang leader was not as helpless as he was.

He'd helped Kurama out when life had been rough for him. As he knew Kurama was extremely grateful, he often held the boy to that fact. He'd always have Kurama running around, doing practical errands and such. He had the type of power to help the redhead. It was only the fact that Hiei didn't take the initiative. That slight apathy, the tiniest amount of ignorance was what kept the teenager closed. He was nearing adulthood, yet had not learned proper social skill. This was not in the sense that he was rude, had poor manners, or didn't know how to act. In fact, it was far from it. It could drive people away, though, the fact that Kurama wouldn't reveal any of his pain. Yuusuke knew that Kurama's intentions were nothing short of good, sparing the attention focused on him, but it was a truth that people didn't like it. With one last glance at the boy lying on the couch, he followed Hiei out the front door, oblivious to the memories that flew through Kurama's mind.

_It was a very happy day for a small young boy, traveling with his mother. As he could see, the skies were completely blue, and the atmosphere, perfect. It was a new thing for him to experience, the sights and sounds all new. He had just recently traveled here from a land far away. This was different from what he knew; the sights and sounds were different. Not only that, how people spoke seemed strange to him. The foreign tongue made his brain swim, a sudden flood of confusion being pressed on his brain as a result. Of course, the one thing that would always remain stable was right by his side. His mother, a beautiful woman in her late twenties spoke softly to him in the language he recognized. _

_Curiously looking around at the surrounding area, he surveyed a butcher's shop, obviously having a sale. People were packed inside and a long line trailed far from the door. He turned, blinking to the woman holding his hand. "Mama, what is this place? It's really strange." He asked quietly. Though he possessed the soft, childish tone his vocabulary and manner of speaking were very mature for his age. It showed intelligence that had surfaced early in his life. So to say, his mother took much pride in how smart he young son was already._

_Smiling and turning to him, she replied in a kind voice. This was the type of tone he had acclimated himself with. It was so warm, so kind. He couldn't ever remember a time when he heard her raise her voice. "Well, Ku-chan, we're going to be living here for a while. Why do you ask? Is there anything wrong with this place?" She spoke to her son in the utmost respect and love. The boy before her paused and put his hand on his chin to think. It seemed that he was trying to decide what his impression was. The bustling crowd and odd language made his vision fuzzy, but then again, the people seemed nice enough here. A new adventure was a temptation in his mind, but something seemed wrong. There was something missing. Though he knew he probably, shouldn't ask, he decided to voice his mind._

"_It's a very nice place, I like it. Where's daddy, though? Isn't he going to come with us?" he almost immediately felt sorry for asking the question. At it, his mother saddened considerably. She was trying to hold it back, but it was near impossible. Softly, biting her lip, she tried to think of an answer that would satisfy the young one's mind. _

"_Well, dear, he had to go on a trip. He promised me that he'd join us soon. We're going to live here, Kurama. Daddy said that he'd be here tomorrow." She knew there was no sense in lying, but she had to protect her son. The useless information would only weigh the boy down. For having a son that was always cheerful no matter what, she couldn't bear to see him worried or sad. She was the mother, and she was the one to fuss over her son, not the other way around. She scooped up Kurama in her arms and held him close. The thin boy accommodated well to that, she had no problem carrying him, despite the fact that he was already an older toddler. Unexpectedly, the young boy reached out and touched her face, giving her an inquisitive look that ached for knowledge. _

"_He didn't leave you, right? You're so sad." He replied simply, burying himself into her neck as any young boy would. "No, no, dear. He loves us too much to ever leave us, especially you. He's on a trip. Remember? He said to you just a few days ago he was going on a business trip. Don't you remember him telling you that we'd be going some place new and he'd see us in a few days?" she asked softly. Nodding in affirmation, he smiled at her, not wanting for her to be sad. An early-built intuition told him there was really something wrong. However, a moment later, that disappeared as his mother smiled her regular smile and set him down on the ground, letting him walk beside her once again. _

_After shooing Kurama off into a park for a while, she sat down on the bench and watched as her child kept a close distance to her. She almost laughed as he played with the other children. Though unable to communicate with them, he soon found out their names and they were all playing an avid game of hide-and-seek. Kurama had the advantage. From a young age, he had been able to climb trees well. Now finding his hiding spot in the branches of tall trees, he was always the last one to be found. The mother was happy to see her son being so normal. Part of the reason they moved away from their old home was because many children thought Kurama to be weird. It was not anything personal either. His parents, Shiori and her husband led odd jobs, and were known as nothing but eccentric in the community. That view rubbed off on other children. It didn't help that adults whispered whenever Kurama walked near them, whether it be to buy groceries for his mother or to make his way to the library every few days. _

_Yeah, he had always been a little 'odd' in that sense. He couldn't help being different than the others. While they obsessed about their favorite bands, cartoons, toys, or friends, Kurama took to the greenhouse at a young age. Whether it be working in the flower garden at home, watering the old lady's flowers across the street, or even helping out at the greenhouse, he loved it. As a result, surprisingly, he was extremely intelligent for his age. He already even knew what he wanted to be when he grew up. Over and over, he would say that he wanted to be a botanist, working in a small town in the mountains of Kyoto as an apothecary. Of course, that had changed since they moved. His mother called it 'France'. His teachers had never talked about foreign countries, nor had his parents. Because of this, he had absolutely no clue what it would be like. It was so strange, but the young boy felt that something held his mother back from returning to their home in the middle of Yokohama. Somehow, he felt that Kyoto was out of the question. Before, his mother had always been enthusiastic about moving to the mountains, but she was now running away from it all. _

_As his mother sat with him in a café the following night, he looked up at the sky. God help him, the food was strange. It tasted much too different than what he was used to. The food was far different from the wonderful sukiyaki his mother treated him to every once in a while. The taste on his tongue was sharp, repugnant, and most of all, as foreign to him as the language spoken here. It only made him feel farther away from home. He began to wonder, how much had they really left behind. His whole family was still back in Japan. Would they ever attend his grandmother's tea ceremonies anymore? What about his uncles and aunts they visited every Sunday? He felt tears well up at the thought of it. He was so attached to his entire family he could barely stand the thought of life without them. He thought pointedly to himself that at least he had his mother. What about everyone else, though? He never thought that his own mother would be so apathetic as to leave everyone._

_He immediately cursed himself for such thoughts. His mother was not cruel and apathetic in any way. At that moment, he felt like he wanted to spit his food out, not because it tasted bad, of course. It was just foreign to him. The childish part of him cried out for something familiar to eat, rice, sushi, miso, or sushi, anything to satisfy his growing homesickness. The only thing that kept him from it was the reminder that it would be rude to do such a thing in front of his mother. He was a well-mannered young boy, and one who always behaved. "Come, let's go Ku-chan. we're going to see our new home." She told him silently after about an hour or so of sitting there eating. Without a word, Kurama silently followed along. Though he remained obedient, Shiori could tell that he was still somewhat distant from him. She knew that he was upset that she had brought him here on such short notice. Even if people were rude to him, moving halfway across the world would upset anyone. It didn't help that she hadn't told Kurama until they had arrived. Their departure had been casual. Shiori already had arrangements for everything. The only things that they had brought from Japan with them were a few outfits and a few of Kurama's favorite books._

_Kurama was currently busy gawking at a large mansion they had come upon. His eyes practically radiated curiosity, thinking of how large it would be, and how interesting it would be to explore. Shiori smiled softly at he son and motioned for him to come on. He gave her a inquisitive look, as if to ask: what do you have planned? "Is this where we're going to live, Mommy?" For the first time today, Shiori spoke with excitement. _

"_Yes. Don't you think it'll be a lovely place? It's plenty big enough for you to explore. I know you've never met your grandparents who live here, but they've given us the place. They wanted somewhere more quiet to live, so they moved out of the country and invited us to come live here." She said. For some reason, Kurama had a feeling she was lying when she said this. Though he was dying of curiosity, he asked no further questions as Shiori and he strode up to the front door. Shiori raised a brass knocker once and knocked. A bubbly lady answered them immediately. _

"_Shiori! How nice it is to see you! It's been years!" she exclaimed. Kurama couldn't understand her. She was speaking in the foreign language. He did catch his mother's name in the jumble of speech though. To his utter surprise, his mother answered back with equal skill, as if she had spoken the language in years. They hugged tightly and then the cheerful lady turned to him, immediately switching her language. "What a cute little boy, Shiori! This is Kurama, right?" he was surprised to hear her speaking Japanese. She nodded and Kurama soon found himself being scooped up into a set of arms, cradling him gently. _

"_Yes, this is my son," she replied. "It would be easier if you spoke to him in Japanese for now, he still hasn't gotten around to learning French." She said politely as Kurama was strangled within the girls suffocating grip. As he felt the grip on him loosen slightly, his mother spoke to him. "Kurama, dear, this is my friend Botan. She's going to be living with us, okay? I need you to stay in your room for a while, though. Botan and I will show you there. Once I leave, I have something I need to do. Just be a good boy and stay in your room. It's getting late, anyways, so you might just want to go to be. Will you do that for me, Kurama?" Once Botan had set him on the ground, he followed them up a large staircase and down a few twisting hallways. Kurama tried to catch a glimpse in some of the rooms, which had an open door. It was near impossible, though. He decided that he'd have to just go exploring for himself tomorrow. _

_The room they led him to was huge. Kurama positively gawked at it. He was in shock, disbelief at how big it was. It was over five times the size of the tiny space he had as a room in his apartment back in Japan. In truth, he had never seen such a large room. There was a king size bed with a canopy nestled in one corner. The beautiful black carpet was absolutely clean, spotless. In another corner there was a desk, while in another there was a comfy looking armchair and a rather large bookcase packed with everything from short stories to novels several inches thick. His eyes only bulged more at the beautiful assortment of plants adorning the room. Something that caught his eyes in particular were beautiful red roses, the color of blood in a fancy vase. Botan knelt down and smiled at him. "Like it? It's your room. Your mom said you like plants." The only thing he was able to manage was a weak nod and a large bow. _

_Shiori smiled down at her son and gave him a hug. "Goodnight, dear. I'll see you in the morning. There're pajamas in the dresser for you, so pick something out and make yourself comfortable." Botan smiled back at the two, the toddler gave his mother a big hug while wishing her a 'goodnight.' He was such a sweet young boy, she thought to herself. It was sad he had to go through so much, being different and all. _

_When his mother and Botan left the room, Kurama set off to explore his new room. It was a lovely, ornate room. The carpet, upon inspection was a flawless black with the light design of gray roses on it. There was nothing like this in Japan. There was also a door he discovered that led into a large closet, and another that led into the biggest bathroom he'd ever seen. There was another feature he particularly liked about the room; it had a balcony. An ornate set of doors with beautifully decorated wood led out to a balcony. He noted, that there was a strange carving of a crescent moon on the door. It seemed out of place. Proceeding under it was a fully detailed sun that was… frowning? Since when did an artist depict the sun to be frowning? He let the door open to get some fresh air while putting on his pajamas. He took another change to look at the roses, which had first attracted his attention. They were beautiful, he thought to himself. _

_He sighed slightly as he shivered from the cold night air. Even the wind smelled different then back in Japan. He supposed that he's get used to it in time. Somehow, he felt that he never would. After traveling to the bookcase to retrieve a paperback copy that attracted his interest, he headed over to large bed and with slight difficulty, climbed onto it. The covers were heavy, warm, and comfortable. After making himself comfy under them, he turned to open the title less book, searching for something of interest. Before he even started reading, he remembered something. He didn't even have to look at the pages to realize that it wasn't likely in the language he could understand. He felt a slight disappointment that he couldn't read it, but decided to look at the words, thinking it might help him with learning the language. _

_There were no pictures to help him, and it was thick with the odd writing. His head began to throb, so he placed the book on the ground and lay down. With the entrance of this silence, he could hear snippets of his mother's conversation. _

"_We had to leave. It was dangerous. Still it is, now, but you're asking me to go to Siberia. I'm going to have to take Kurama with me if I do. It isn't that I don't trust you, Botan, but I am literally the only one who can fully protect him right now. He's a prime target. I still feel bad for it, though. I mean, he's just a toddler, I shouldn't be putting him through this much stress." His mother said in an almost avid whisper. Kurama briefly wondered why she was talking in Japanese if he wasn't meant to hear this conversation. Perhaps she felt awkward speaking in French, perhaps not. _

"_I know Shiori. But you have to do this. A village is in trouble and people are dying. I know you've vowed to give it up because of the incident, but this isn't like that anymore. They are begging for your help. How can you deny them that? I mean, a simple accident shouldn't hold you back!" There was silence for a long time. Kurama dare not move, or even breathe out of fear of being caught. _

"_Botan, it isn't the fact that there was one little accident. For now, I can't let Kurama out of my sights. He was threatened last time, and I was warned. I know now that if there is any chance at Kurama living past age ten, I need to lay as low as I possibly can. They already got him last year, and he was coughing blood. I know he doesn't seem like it, but that lung condition effects him. I don't want to lose my son. I love him too much for that. I am absolutely begging you to tell them that I am dead, that you haven't seen me in over a year. PLEASE THIS IS MY SON I'M WORRYING ABOUT!" Shiori's voice rose with each sentence until she was practically yelling. Kurama had never heard her like this before. She was nearly hysterical, and it scared him. Finally, Botan managed to calm her down. They were whispering again, but they were still loud enough that Kurama could hear them._

"_Listen. You don't have to worry. These guys aren't connected to the ones that hurt Kurama in any way shape, or form. The village has already verified it. They even say it's safe enough to bring Kurama along. Pleases, Shiori, they're desperate." Botan told her. His mother sighed in resignation._

"_I'll go next week, then. But you need to think up a good enough excuse that I can tell Kurama." She said softly. Kurama heard no more after this. He felt slightly scared, what was Shiori hiding from him. Who had hurt him? He had no recollection of ever coughing up blood or going to the hospital for it. He felt slightly scared after thinking about this. After trembling for a few minutes, he settled under the covers and slept peacefully._

_Blood…_

_A scream…_

_Suddenly the scene changed for Kurama. His vision was stained a dark red, and he couldn't see anything. All the new was that his hand was bloody and torn, it hurt more than anything in the world could've. Tears streamed down his face and dripped wetly off of his cheeks. He was in the arms of a man, and he was silently being assured. After sobbing slightly, the man quelled him with a soft-spoken "Hush." He felt a burning pain travel throughout his body. Then darkness came, erasing anything else he felt. _


	4. Chapter 4

_**Destin Enchaîné**_

Me: Hihi! Here's the next chapter for you. I don't really have anything to say but this. **Mature YAOI content warning. Though not depicting sex scenes, it comes very close, borderline 'lemon'. Please be smart. This is why it was rated M. DO NOT read unless you are willing to handle it in a mature fashion. Otherwise, you could be thirteen for all I care. Just don't flame me with complaints**

Also, I must say, I really liked writing this chapter. If I had been lazy, this could've waited until Saturday. Don't make me regret it. Please review.

Random Insane Asylum Patient: "Being perceptive brings results!"

* * *

_**Chapter 4**_

The patter of footstep echoed through the dank alleyway. The clash of metal, reverberating across the walls, followed its predecessor quickly, mixed with cries and groans of pain. Nothing about that stopped the two beings tangled in battle, a struggle to survive. Each reason on the other's part was different. Yet the skillful twists, the turns, and the flips made it look like a complicated dance routine, a game of sorts.

One drew a smirk; he found enjoyment in fighting, much enjoyment from it. The sick, twisted nature was inherited, and he automatically drew excitement off of it. Appearing cool and subdued was how he seemed while he wasn't on the battlefront. Yet here, it was unrepressed violence. The lust for blood, for the twisting dance of dueling with a skilled fighter was a type of stimulant all its own. His opponent, more properly worded, victim was a rare find indeed. No matter how many times the attacker seemed to swing at him, he would dodge skillfully, perhaps a parry and counter would be thrown in to the mix as well. This is what he liked, heated battles between foes, and the final satisfaction of arising as superior. The fighters were evenly matched. Though from the side standpoint of view, one could assume that it could go both ways, the outcome had already been revealed to both men.

The one thing that the attacker was glad about was that this man was not stupid. From the beginning, he had known that if it came down to a fight, he would be the one to fall. After all the careful stalking, and the well-planned attack, the man's assailant wouldn't let his prey escape his clutches. So to top it off, he had a lot of fun in actually leading the victim into the trap. It had been very frustrating at first. His target had noticed the danger, carefully avoiding him and staying in main streets saturated with people. It had not turned out in the way he had planned, though. The stalker deceived him, and he found himself here, far away from any possible help.

Somehow, he could sense the killer's satisfaction. Most likely, this was his business, or his way to survive. Silently he would kill and make his living, or maybe he generally mangled them to satisfy his sadistic desires. Which it was, he did not know. But most likely, he was a good change of pace. He suspected many of the people before him had been trusting, and were quick to be lead to their death. This man was professional at killing, he had years of practice, and it was second nature. That almost made him seem like an animal to the poor victim. Well… that and the fact that he had just heard the man issue a predatory growl as his blade ripped the fabric of his shirt.

The kill was over rather quickly. A subtly as the fight had started; the end was just as abrupt. One moment, they were both perfectly adept with plenty of energy and breath to spare, and then the next the man's victim was dead. It had been very quick, and a polite way to kill in the dark man's point of view. One deep-cut slash across the throat accompanied with a very sudden hit to the head had been enough. The cut had ruined his windpipe, and the hit had shattered his spine, along with breaking his neck. The man savored the fresh scent of blood, which hadn't even had enough time to spill onto the pavement. A he flashed a pearly grin; he flashed pearly canines, as if to show them off to an invisible audience.

Only was the deadly silence broken when then man licked his fingers of blood that had tainted them moments before. Paying no mind to the warm, metallic, taste of it, he looked back to the corpse. With another glisten of his fangs, he turned back to the dead victim. The fight had been a thrill, something that made him feel alive. After wiping the dagger he had been fighting with off with a worn cloth, he sheathed it. He only spent about ten minutes there afterwards, only to dispose of the body elsewhere, somewhere where the victim wouldn't be found until years afterwards. With an evil smirk, he seemed to melt into the shadows, heading off to the stalk the city, surveying for other possible prey.

Kurama, little more than a few miles away, stood out on the balcony. He yawned, but felt refreshed. It was now around midnight. He had fallen asleep little more than a few hours ago. Now, he waited patiently for someone to return. In fact, he had found out a little while ago he had been invited out to 'dinner' at a nice restaurant a little ways away. He was actually waiting for Yuusuke and Kuwabara. To say the least, he was starving. He hadn't eaten since late yesterday afternoon.

In his busy schedule, he was secretly working out a time when he could go back and see Karasu again. Of course, he hadn't told Hiei this. But why should he care so long as the chores got done. On a list by the fridge, Hiei always left specific chores for him to do. When he got it done didn't really matter to the leader so long as they were completed properly and in a respective amount of time. They really didn't take that long, either, he thought to himself. These chores would be especially short tonight, too. All he really had to do was organize some of Hiei's files and go out grocery shopping. While many boys his age would detest it, he really didn't mind that much.

Coming from Japan, he had been in a community that was a very work-school orientated. Even as a child, he'd run around and do his much work that his mother assigned him. Going to the grocery store alone was by far one of the easiest tasks for him, and the one Hiei most appreciated. Many of the members in the large-scale gang weren't willing to do such tasks.

Yet… he still felt slightly lonely tonight. He'd never really felt this way before. From the conclusions he drew, it was from Karasu. Even at the thought of him, the teenager felt mesmerized. The smart, logical part of him told him that any sort of relationship, romantic or not would be harmful to him. Yet there was a wilder part of him that had been bred here in the past to years. The wild side was completely contradictory to his real personality.

It was the part of him that wanted to behave as many gang members did. All too often, it was a clash between starting a fight, and perhaps committing a crime. It was an odd part of him, almost bred into his blood subconsciously. Whenever he had adrenaline running through his veins, he felt like an animal, aggressive, pugnacious, and ignorant. One night, he had ironically rolled his eyes and named the personality 'Youko'. Yes, it had been childish, but it had also given him a good laugh. Why 'Youko'? Someone may have asked. Well, by the literally Japanese meaning, he referred himself to a fox. As a child, he had always loved foxes, and as a young adult, he still loved foxes as well.

Of course, the exception to that was the fox in his dreams. Even at the thought, Kurama felt frightened. He could still clearly hear the snap of its jaws, and the feeling of its sharp canines embedded in his leg. At that moment, he groaned. He felt sick of thinking about it, but his mind simply strayed to it by itself. Clear images of thee dream haunted him, and scared him. That pain had frightened him, unlike that of which Karasu had inflicted. What Karasu did to him was nothing more than a simple poke in the side compared to that. Also, it had just been so great, so vast, and so scary that he couldn't help drawing fear off of it.

As he went to sit down on the couch inside, he put his hand up to his mouth to stifle the loud, harsh sound of his own breathing. He sighed as once again, attempted relaxation. Almost as expected, such efforts proved futile. A clear picture of a disapproving Hiei came to mind. He tried to stifle a sharp intake of breath while holding back tears. Why did thinking about Hiei make him want to cry? For the first time in his life, he felt like Hiei had enslaved him here. In was so different from what he usually felt. Was he only Hiei's lapdog, nothing else? Perhaps Hiei had chosen him not secretly out of kindness, but because he had seen him as a creature as ethereal as a sylph, a beauty worth preserving and showing off. Who knew? Maybe he was even behind the encounter with Karasu.

No, no, he shouldn't think these thoughts. A voice in his head asked: _Well, why shouldn't you think those things, anyways. Look at him, staring whenever he thinks you aren't looking. Forget thinking that he's like this; KNOW he's like this. He doesn't want you for anything except a sex slave. He's just biding his time, making sure you trust him until you come of age. Then he can trap you and lock you away forever. Don't let him achieve that, escape. He has no right to such beauty; he is not entitled to a prize such as you._

He immediately cursed the narcissist part of him, the part of him that was so self-confident that anything seemed possible, including living a life without the aid of Hiei. Perhaps that was possible when he came of age, and would be able to fully count himself as an adult, but not now. People still saw him as a child, some in truth, people who would take advantage of a child when they were so desperate. He wouldn't allow that to happen, because he was much too smart for that. Hiei couldn't do anything to hurt him… Could he? Before even thinking, he repeated firmly in his head one word. 'No!'

But what he had thought had scared him. He had no control over if Hiei would tie him down to bed and rape him every night, only to lock him up for the rest of his days. When his masochist instincts fully kicked in, he almost screamed at the seemingly 'erotic' thoughts streaming through his field of vision. He could tell how explicit they were without even having to see them. Trembling weakly, he tried without success to force the thoughts away. While the side containing pride lashed out at such thoughts, there was a part of him that made him tremble weakly with a sort of anticipation. His breath heavy and his face hot, he managed to lie down and relax a little. Of course, that didn't stop his mind from wandering to rather lewd subjects, once again.

Still, the images seemed to persist at a horrifying rate. It wasn't Karasu, he was thinking of, either. Images thrown into the mix were that of him and Hiei. It almost made him sick at this point. He was a friend to Hiei, a servant, _nothing _more. He shivered, almost feeling Hiei's touch gliding across his shoulder. Though the touch was light, it sent sensations through his body that he had never felt before. It was a ghostly touch, one that coxed out his masochistic personality. Still trembling, he watched as his daydream, if one could call it that went on.

It was odd at first, because how he imagined it; Hiei was being gentle, shy, and suggestive all at the same time. As he slipped farther and farther out of reach of reality, so much that each and every touch seemed like liquid fire. He looked into Hiei's eyes, which appeared to him as a cool green, much like his own. He highly doubted Hiei's eyes were green. It was just that… he's never seen Hiei's eyes before. There was no telling whether they were hazel, or brown, or any other color. Somehow, he sensed it would be only under dire circumstances Hiei would take those glasses off.

He watched as the daydream Hiei moved gently over to him, a predatory look glistening in his eye. The air was heated, and Kurama could barely draw breath. The air was oddly heavy, so thick that his lungs were unable to draw it. It only weighted him down further. His pursuer seemed to have no problem with it. "H-Hiei." He managed to stutter out. A blush grew across his face. It was that of shame. He did not want this. While his heart and mind were both screaming 'no'. He couldn't find strength to say the simple word. Hiei was now stroking his face, running his hands fully over the expanse of skin. There was nothing that could've made him feel more naked. The hand searched without reprieve, invading his personal space and forcing Kurama to bend to the leader's will. He let out a shaky gasp as the pale hand moved further down.

What scared Kurama was the fact that the touch was not meant as a stroke, or a comforting gesture. He felt fingers press with harsh pressure against the skin of his neck, following the path of his veins, and almost constricting his ability to breath properly. For now, his eyes were shut tightly, in hopes that if he ignored this vision, it would go away. He could clearly hear his seducer trying to tempt him closer. Right now, the trembling boy was barely within arm's reach of Hiei.

"This isn't real, this isn't real," he repeated to himself monotonously under his breath. This was his secret weakness, one he had never told anyone. Surely, if he could be seduced so easily, than Hiei would not approve. But… was this Hiei? He asked himself. Ever so slowly, the dark-haired man was winning him over, coaxing him away from reality.

"No!" He repeated for a minute. No reply came to this; only the pressure of the touch gave him the sign that Hiei had not liked what he said. This couldn't be Hiei! Hiei did not seduce! Hiei was not a sadist! He whimpered softly, Hiei's cool touch was bruising to say the least. The gentle persuasion was gone, and the man had drifted to rough influence, getting to the point where Kurama had to come closer to Hiei.

To say the least, he was having trouble controlling his actions. One part of him wanted to punch Hiei in the face for doing such a thing. Another part of him wanted to beg Hiei for mercy, for him to stop. The strongest part told him to follow along. In the thought's wake came more erotic thought. By now, Kurama's breathing was very choppy. Inside, he was pleading with himself to stop with this behavior. He knew Hiei was satisfied, and that his actions were taking their desired effect. Not only that, he could sense the other man's smirk. It burnt through him, even without him having to look into his eyes. He could only visualize now how the once cool green expression had turned to that of unbridled lust.

"Shh… Kurama. I'm not going to hurt you," was what he heard, no louder than a soft whisper as he tried to inch away. From the tone of it, he could tell 'much' was a word that had been rightfully left out. He began to tremble again, uncontrollably. He must've looked like a piteous creature, with his eyes closed tightly and his entire body dampened with a nervous sweat. Hiei showed no mind, nor any sympathy. He was basking in Kurama's fright, waiting for the proper time to take it to the next step, to test Kurama's sanity once more. He'd enjoy playing with Kurama, playing with him until he finally would push him off the edge.

It was only at that moment that he felt Hiei grab his wrist firmly. It was a strong hold, cutting off circulation and making him struggle. Just because he was a masochist did not mean that he would go down without a fight. Though his attempts were easily thwarted whenever he tried to break the grip, he persisted. "Hiei… let go, now." He said determinedly. With that statement, he could feel Hiei's grip on him tighten considerably. As the redhead held back a scream, he struggled furiously to stay sane. He would not let that stoic gaze frighten him. With his other hand, Hiei grabbed Kurama's chin firmly. With a bone-crushing squeeze, he forced Kurama to open his eyes and look at him. Such a predatory look uprooted the last of Kurama's self-assurance. He tried to struggle while knowing at the same time it was futile. His eyes no longer wide, had been squeezed shut tightly once again.

All the redhead could keep in mind was that this couldn't be Hiei. Hiei, his caretaker, his friend, and someone who had cared more than anyone else living was not like this. He was not so cruel, so wicked, and so sadistic. No matter how hard he tried, he knew he was obviously mesmerized by it. Though he was so clearly distraught, there was a reason to Hiei not honoring his requests. For a moment, he tried to resist again. After opening his eyes and making direct contact, he made one last desperate plea. "Please" he said, eyes sparkling with a foreign hope. The request was not honored in any way, shape, or form. With one last "Shh," Hiei managed to bring Kurama fully against his body. In a way, it almost surprised him that he hadn't received any response when he pulled him the rest of the way to him. He issued a smirk of satisfaction.

Keeping still, he allowed Hiei to do as he wished. Such a sad, solemn expression didn't match Hiei's predatory one. Yet he kept still and allowed Hiei to tie a gag around his mouth and a blindfold around his eyes. He only squirmed really when Hiei took the initiative to run his hands along the entire length of his body. The touch stung so much, and was so blistering hot that he was sure Hiei was dragging a superheated knife across his body. Only then did a soft moan escape. A sharp cry peaked his lips. It stung his throat, coming out as loud and choked.

A sheer cry echoed as Hiei lapped up blood, making sure he still kept Kurama in place, forcefully. Now he was trying fully to struggle. In the end, it would only bring both more pleasure. For Hiei, it would be capturing that which had taken a great amount of patience to catch, and tying him down while stripping away the last remaining part of his dignity piece by piece. For Kurama, it would be being held down forcefully while his blood ran freely onto the floor, so strictly that if he so much moved without consent from the one above him, he would be jarred and slammed. This was the part of him that only people willing to get intimate quick could see. Not to mention, the person had to be completely willing to overpower him fully, and make sure the masochistic desires would be fulfilled.

Yet, as he felt tears form on the corners of his eyes, he thought 'This isn't what I want'. Never had he desired something so much yet so clearly detested it. It was almost like 'Youko' was making himself known. Never had he felt such a tear in emotions. Complete opposites, desire and disgust tore through his body making him fall limp with exhaustion. Only a second later, the disgusted part of his personality broke through. Again, he tried struggling, fighting, or lashing out. Anything that would make Hiei stop was what he attempted. He knew it was a mistake immediately. It was only a split second before and overwhelming pain erupted through his body. It traveled through the nerves in his body, spreading a burning sensation. Most prominently, his back ached, as if it had been stabbed.

Being thrust against the hard floor again, quite roughly this time, he coughed blood. Literally now, he could not breathe. His lungs were seemingly filled with blood as Kurama lost control of his own actions. All he could do was lay there amidst the fit of coughing, with the crimson substance running smoothly down his chin and past his neck.

Hiei took a minute to look at the picture before him. Finally catching his breath, Kurama spluttered, coughing up yet more blood, this time onto Hiei's shirt. Against his own accord, his body was trembling uncontrollably, shuddering from bursts of adrenaline, a dangerously fast heart rate, and slight nerve damage from being slammed against the floor so hard. "H… Hiei." For right now, Kurama could barely even speak. His voice was wheezy and weak.

Again, though, Kurama was driven crazy. The route Hiei had chosen was an odd route, tempting both sides of his personality out. While he had roughly disregarded Kurama in every way possible, he still took his time to be as gentle as the most caring lover would have been. He watched in slight amusement as he ran his hand softly along the boy's bloodstained jaw. His touch was light and feathery, enough to make Kurama relax, his soft and windy sigh holding much delight.

It had wound down a little now. Though trembling softly, he no longer struggled or thrashed. Rather, he found himself acting against his will and relaxing completely as Hiei's touch traveled further across his body. Hiei whispered comforting words, though Kurama couldn't understand them. His mind was garbled from blood loss. What worried him was the hand that held him down firmly. It was the one thing that kept his heart pounding at a steady pace, the thing that kept him from further slipping into ease. At the same time, he expected it and he didn't expect it. He was just so distraught he didn't know what to think anymore. Where did he fall between? There was no such thing as 'slightly rational' in such a scene. There was no 'in-between' for rape and sex. He didn't think that, at least.

"Shush, sweetheart, relax." Hiei told him. Kurama only heard it vaguely.

To the least of expectations, such a surprise sent a shock through his system much earlier than either had planned. Hiei had lifted his hands off for a moment. Right then, he had been tracing Kurama's neck, admiring the soft gasps he elicited. Almost one instinct, his hands traveled down to the material covering his lower half. He was only left to sob as this small bit of material was torn brutally away from him. Something between a whine and a plea was muffled behind the gag. For now, he could only keep his mouth closed tightly, trying to ignore the stabbing pain in his back coupled alongside with the impending fear.

He shivered and trembled, wide-eyed and frightened. Masochist or not, he was still a virgin. That was one thing he did not yet want to have taken away from him, least of all by Hiei. Hiei's painful touch ignored anywhere else except the insides of his thighs, where the skin was sensitive. His mouth opened wide in a silent scream, more blood spilling out as he coughed hard. By now, or course, his throat was dry and parched from screaming so much. It was wounded and sore, not to mention, so full of blood that he felt like he was drowning in himself. His eyes were beginning to mist over slightly, and he felt extremely drowsy. "Hiei…" the softest possible whisper was all he was able to manage now.

"Kurama." He could hear him state as he pulled Kurama up for a brutal kiss. His tongue raided Kurama's mouth and successfully overpowered him in seconds. Only when Kurama squirmed did Hiei pull away. Poor Kurama was left panting and choking on the floor until Hiei demanded another kiss from him only seconds later. The taste was unique. Never had he felt such a cool tongue, and Hiei's taste was unique in it's own way. In truth, it blended well with the metallic taste of his blood. If he hadn't been feeling so wildly insane, so crazy right now, he could have sworn Hiei tasted like blood as well. He tried to relax. Just as he was getting used to it, to the point where he was actually enjoying it, though…

"KURAMA!" The spoken boy snapped out of the reverie and screamed. His eyes were wide and expressionless. Had he just thought that about Hiei? He tried to stand, to get a better view of Kuwabara and Yuusuke, who had snapped him out of that horrible… horrible… whatever he could call it. His knees were shaky, and his hands were cold and clammy.

Yuusuke walked up to him and put a hand up to his burning forehead. After a few moments, his erratic breathing began to slow as he calmed down. Yuusuke looked sympathetic. "You aren't sick, are you, fox boy?" Kurama began to settle down, finding comfort in the nickname. This was the real world, the one where Hiei wasn't a sadistic rapist taking advantage of his own masochistic tendencies. Though he felt like he was going to throw up, he shook his head quickly, signaling a negative response. Still, they looked very worried.

"Well then, are we going to eat, or not?" asked Kuwabara. Immediately, the two saw the teen's eyes lit up at the thought of food. He mustn't have had any proper food for a good amount of time. Oh, but there was another longing, a longing to go see Karasu, to talk to him more, because he trusted him more than anyone, specifically. While he had only known Karasu for a while, he felt the man was the only one who could truly understand him.

However, Kurama smiled at them. "Please, I would love to go to dinner. I'm starving, as you can see." They nodded to him affirmatively as he began to calm down slightly. Though remnants of the vision still plagued him, he felt like he would be okay.

"Well then, Kurama, let's go! You should get changed. We're meeting a few people at a nice restaurant. It'll be good eating!" Kuwabara explained, obviously anxious about getting to eat a good meal. After an affirmative nod, Kurama went off to change. There had been a nice tunic Hiei had given him a little while ago for formal occasions. It was oriental, and in Kurama's opinion, quite beautiful. As it was very detailed, the outfit depicted an ornate scene. A twisting black dragon embroidered onto black fabric and outlined with red thread traced a twisting dragon, all the way down. As Hiei said, the black helped bring the colors of both his eyes and hair together while making his hair stand out more with red thread. He laughed as he tossed it on. It hadn't been like Hiei ever cared about it, anyways.

All of the sudden, Kurama went into a coughing fit. As a habit, his hands flew up to protect his mouth, covering his cough. Yet to his surprise, there was… crimson liquid? Practically freaking out, he wiped his bloodied hands on a shirt he never used anymore. In his dismay, he didn't notice the set of violet eyes watching him out the window.

Kurama walked back out to his friends, trying to control his panic. Everything would be fine, he reassured himself. Nothing could go wrong. _Of course, nothing could ever go wrong. _He must have imagined himself coughing blood, he told himself. Yeah, it was a hallucination it had to be.

Kuwabara and Yuusuke were smiling at him once again as they headed out. Though it was dark, it was out of habit that they were used to the dark. They jumped and laughed as if it were daytime. Yuusuke and Kuwabara were the youngest members of the game next to Kurama. In fact, Kuwabara was two years older, and Yuusuke was no more than a year older than Kurama. The members of Hiei's games were far from childish; they did not play pranks like adolescent gangs did. They were serious, and you weren't in such a gang unless you were of a high stature.

While Kuwabara strayed ahead from his counterparts, Yuusuke caught Kurama's wrist. "Yuusuke, what are you doing?" questioned Kurama in a low whisper. Yuusuke could tell how Kurama had lied to him about being distraught. Gently, he pulled Kurama into his arms and held him close. Whether it was worry or love, it was hardly distinguishable to anyone other than Yuusuke. It didn't really matter, though.

"You're really okay, right, Kurama?" his friend asked, showing his true concern, along with voicing Kuwabara's worry. For a moment, Kurama's eyes shimmered with emotion. He wanted to break down in Yuusuke's arms and tell him everything. Karasu, his vision today, his dreams, and Hiei were all plaguing his mind, making him want to cry. Scarcely, he waited a minute, relaxed, and gave an affirmative reply. Yuusuke was only worried, Kurama reminded himself. Yuusuke gently stroked Kurama's cheek and sighed wistfully, wishing Kurama would trust him more.

As they walked onward, Kurama could have sworn he heard a voice in the trees. "I'll get you, my pretty little dear."

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**Me: **Muhahaha! There we go. This is my first scene meant to be erotic. And to tell you the truth, I'm actually kinda satisfied with that. It challenged me, but heck, I managed to do it without killing myself. And I know what you're thinking. No, Kurama is not a slut. Yuusuke, he was kind of a last minute thing. So there, ha! REVIEW, I WORKED HARD ON THIS! 


	5. Chapter 5

_**Destin Enchaîné**_

**Me: **Well, here you are. Here's chapter 5. In particular, I really like this chapter. We get in a little romance with Hiei, though Kurama isn't so willing to go along with it. Still, I like it. You know what you should do? You should review and tell me what you think. Make my last day of regular school happy. I've been in a really bad mood this week because of end-of-year stress. I've still got a biology course as an acceleration course over the summer, but I rule at biology, so no worries! Consider the fact that I'm going to just update more often as a gift for more reviews. I work hard on this. And don't think I don't know about people who have put this story on their favorites but never once reviewed. I'm watching you! Ah well, read on now. AND REVIEW, TOO.

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_**Chapter 5**_

Distractive noises echoed through a large ballroom as hundreds of people occupied themselves with the entertainment set up. On the side, a redhead sat in a chair, not enjoying the festivities much. Yuusuke and Kuwabara had neglected to mention to him that this 'dinner' was in fact one of the large formal balls Hiei threw every once in a while. While he had never had a problem for such parties, he could say in all fairness that he was getting close to starvation. His stomach was complaining to him, and he wasn't really in the mood to deal with the festivities because of it. At this rate, dinner wouldn't be served for another few hours. It made him groan in hunger.

If only he could find Hiei. He was generally the only one who was able to hold sensible conversation in this whole event. Most of the other people were here for the party along with a lover or friend of sorts. For that reason, they really had no reason to take much notice to the redheaded teen in the corner. Aside from Yuusuke and Kuwabara, he was the only teen here. Most of the people were of high stature, around their late twenties or early thirties. While he cared deeply for his friends company, they always seemed to disappear at these types of events. He chewed on his lip slightly, getting the feeling that he was being watched. After squirming for a moment in his discomfort, he pushed the feeling to the back of his mind and went back to aimlessly watching the dancers.

It wasn't exactly that Hiei liked these parties either. It was merely to gain the favor of the government. Hiei was a secretive leader of a still famous gang. Though they were famous for their crimes and power, nobody would have suspected that Hiei was the mastermind behind it all. He was almost as good as Kurama was at that sort of lying. Nobody would have believed it if they were told Hiei was one of the most merciless and skilled killers in all of France. They thought that despite his cool nature and dodgy personality, he was a wealthy benefactor, doing business with merchants overseas. Besides, in times like these who could deny a party? It was the one of the darkest eras not because of the economy, but because of the widespread gang activity. Not to mention, the danger of being outside. For years now, there had always been killings, those of the most brutal nature.

So as the men and women swung around in their fancy dresses and suits, Kurama chose to be the oddball. While he still wore the most exotic and foreign clothes there, he was the one who managed to draw the least attention to him. But something brushed his shoulder. It was the odd type of touch that made him shiver. At first, he thought it to be a fly. He swatted near where he felt the sensation, and a few moments later, had calmed down once again. He was sure it was a touch this time, weaving through his hair and pulling at it slightly, as if to coax him somewhere. A little peeved, Kurama tried to swat again, but found his hand caught in a human's grip, the flesh only slightly cooler than his own.

With a soft gasp, he swiveled around from his seat and encased the grip within an amazingly strong hold, conjured up mostly by a sudden rush of adrenaline. He gasped once again as he found none other than Karasu, sitting breathtakingly close. Immediately with this realization he released Karasu's arm and shoved his hands harshly into his lap, forcing back a furious blush. The cool violet eyes remained unchanged, unshaken. After a moment of silence passed, Karasu ran his hand across Kurama's cheek. While the caress remained gentle in was one of the most carnal touches, setting the skin of the teen's face aflame with heat. Trying to force up the courage, to tell Karasu to stop, he stained his eyes to see if Hiei was around. He would certainly not improve. There would be a riot; Hiei's carefully kept secrets would be spilled amongst this outburst of fury. Karasu was someone Hiei absolutely loathed. Generally, anything having to do with Karasu was strictly forbidden. And how angry Hiei would be if he knew Kurama went along with it… The thought made Kurama shiver in fright.

In a fervid gesture, Kurama quickly moved his hand up to Karasu's halting the sensuous touch entirely. "Karasu, not here. Hiei will notice us! What are you doing here anyways? Yuusuke and Kuwabara said that Hiei made this an invite only. How did you make in past the guards?" Karasu practically purred at his sudden outburst. The boy was flustered, completely taken aback by his sudden appearance. He felt like he had accomplished something, seeing as he had swept away the boy's stoic behavior just within their first meeting. What; ha had done last time was still obviously affecting Kurama. As he drew back his hands, he though how odd the boy was. On the outside, he seemed really calm and stoic, but if you knew the right nerves to hit, he could be the most vulnerable creature on the face of the planet. He chuckled slightly for a moment before answering the hurried questions.

"You aren't happy to see me, love? I thought after the fun we had last week you'd come visit me on your own," he said, tone seductive. The words were having a clear effect of Kurama. As they sunk in, his eyes widened, Karasu was sure he was trembling, too. "Did you not think that the letter you delivered to me was an invitation here? Hiei wished to invite me to see how I'd… behave. He wishes to start an alliance, because he sees that I match his strength. And besides, don't worry about Hiei. He isn't even here. Let's just say that he had other obligations." As Kurama opened his mouth to question his answer, he covered the redhead's mouth quickly and kissed his forehead quickly. Kurama emitted a sound that sounded like a mix between a squeak and a cry.

"A-Are you sure?" Kurama stuttered, unsure of what to say. He was slightly excited about it, but still slightly worried that Hiei would find out about it or he would walk in while Karasu was kissing him or something. Karasu nodded curtly, though it didn't seem to give the redhead much assurance. Somehow, Hiei seemed to have a knack for digging information out of people, whether or not he had to resort to more drastic means. One death glare had the power to have a body builder running for his life. It was one of the only things in the whole world Kurama feared. Only once had he seen it before, and it had been directed at an enemy over a year ago. Said person was now dead, Kurama had watched horrified on the sidelines as Hiei slashed through his throat with ease. In a second after that thought, Karasu was holding Kurama's delicate hand in his own.

"Care to dance, my love?" The statement in itself made Kurama quiver with an odd sort of pleasure. He liked the term he was being addressed in. It was oddly, intimate. Though he could have imagined Karasu would've called him something much dirtier if they had been alone, he really didn't care much. Perhaps it was because he liked it. Honestly, he didn't know how even masochistic urges could bring two people together so quickly. They'd just met a few days ago, but Karasu was addressing him as if they had been lovers for years. And as much Kurama hated it, and knew how stupid it was, the very sight of Karasu made him swoon. He wanted to go farther with him defiantly. He wanted to get as close to Karasu as he could get. Was it true love? For some reason, Kurama doubted it more than anything else. But still, something in his mind told him not to care. It might have been hormones setting in, or even worse, he might've been turning into some sort of slut. Still, through all of it, he had not dignity, no care in the matter. He only cared to be with Karasu. The rational part of his mind was shoved away as Karasu rubbed his thigh teasingly.

He wanted to say to him that girls are supposed to dance with guys, that it would be indecent to be dancing with another guy in public. It used to never be something he would have even thought about doing. Hell, he didn't even know his preferences went towards boys. It made him feel oddly embarrassed, like there was something wrong with him and he had caught a disease. He had always though of those types of people as disgusting, yet here he was, completely willing to make out with a member of the same sex. It shouldn't have worked this way. He cursed his hormones, wishing that they would stop interfering with his life and embarrassing him. Yet he couldn't help but agree with the dark-haired man.

At the time, Karasu was working on guiding him out of his seat. Kurama was a little reluctant. Not only did he want to sit in his seat and just relax, but also he didn't want to play the dancing role of the girl, which Karasu would certainly push him into. He didn't even _want _to dance. It was just something he was being forced to do. For a moment, he was bent on escape, so that he wouldn't have to dance and tear away that dignity, so as to fully admit his masochistic tendencies, and so as to claim his role as the submissive partner. He was sure it would be highly humiliating; it would take a large toll on his pride. Yet still, somehow, there was a personality in the back of his head that took excitement out of the situation. Surely, it couldn't have been Youko. His idea of 'Youko' was that of a prideful and vain man, not one of virtue, but certainly not like this.

He had no control, as he was led the center of the dance floor, followed by Karasu. He was tense, wanting to struggle out of the strong grip that encased him. The grip around him tightened somewhat, limiting his motions to those of which Karasu approved of. "You need to relax," called a voice through the void, resembling that of Hiei's in almost every way. "Now, now, love. Are you going to be so uncooperative as not to dance with me?" Once again, the tone was deep and low, voluptuous in its own way. His struggling stopped soon after Karasu tightened his grip to the point where Kurama was sure that he would be suffocated. He actually exhaled in relief when as soon as he followed Karasu's movements, it became about ten times easier to breath than just a few minutes ago.

Miles away, Hiei stood, daggers drawn in defense. Gray skinned bodies continued to launch themselves at him to their own will. He gritted his teeth angrily, seeing these zombies as obstacles, something his enemy had most likely set up to delay his arrival to dinner tonight. Generally, he wouldn't worry. Being a leader of a dangerous gang, he knew well enough how to fight, he required it out of everyone in his group. What he was worried about was why these servants had been sent. What if Kurama was in danger of something of that sort? He couldn't bear to think about it. Secretly, he cared so much more for that boy than he had ever shown. Not only that, Kurama showed potential. What type of potential, you ask? Unlocking the secrets of this world was something Hiei had tried to do forever. No matter how many times the information came close to him, he couldn't grasp it. Kurama could help him with it. In exchange for such information, Hiei could give him a prize sought after by almost every living being, an eternity.

Images of the redhead's smiling face cascaded through his mind again. In his absentmindedness, he had slipped up, allowing one of his foes to strike at their will. His lips parted in momentary pain when the sharp tip of a blade tear through his skin, effectively shredding the fabric of his shirt and lacerating skin and muscle. Though the cut was deep, the blood only flowed momentarily, and the damage done had a minimal effect on him. To show his valiance and apathy towards pain to his foes, he thrust his fingers downward into the wound, drawing blood. Then, he licked the smallest amount off his fingers and launched himself at the nearest person. His first successfully left a bloodied imprint on his victim's cheek, and he took advantage of the surprise this caused by stabbing hard with the weapon he held. In a second, the weight of the body gave out; Hiei pulled his dagger out and allowed his kill to fall to the ground. That's what he got for the unprovoked attack.

Obviously, he had done a good amount of damage by killing the first one. Now distraught, his enemies were a lot easier to fight. Either he had killed the strongest one in their group or they hadn't expected his power to be so great. The next one was easy. Hiei waited for his change and then charged form behind, swinging his foot high and making contact with the target, the back of his enemy's neck. The force wasn't enough to kill him, but he still slumped over and fell to the ground, unconscious.

As Hiei turned, a gray blur caught his eyes. His eyes were unable to track such fast movement, and before he knew it, he flew across the alley and into a wall. He swore, he could see stars at that moment. As he slid down the wall helplessly, he felt a sticky trail of blood as he smeared it onto the cold surface. Finally, he collapsed to the ground, panting heavily. When his vision had finally cleared he sat up and found his enemy gone. The coward had run. He snorted and got up, wiping his dirtied hands on his shirt with disgust. What a waste of a fight. Well, at least he could get to the party now. He was sure Kurama was worried. The teen seemed to make it a habit of staying by him at these things. He's seen Kurama panic when he couldn't find him. Not wanting that to happen much longer, he reminded himself that he had to change out of the dirtied clothes and clean himself. Kurama would be equally disappointed if he appeared there looking like this. Besides, it wouldn't leave a good impression on his _guests _he reminded himself bitterly.

He was in a bad state of mind when he finally got home. With a single angry gesture, he threw his torn cloak and shirt onto the couch and inspected his wounds. As he had expected, they were already healed to a point of bare visibility. The most noticeable parts, surprisingly, were bruises. They were a nasty shade of black and blue, still slightly sore when touched. It only took him a few moments to head back to his room and grab the necessary attire. To cover the wounds on his neck, he wore a well fitting turtleneck sweater. To accompany it, he chose a matching pair of dress pants. That would be formal enough, he though in a sardonic manner, even when he knew everyone would be docked in their best attire. Despite that, his best attire had been ruined with blood and a long tearing slash across the front. He could really care less. All he needed to do was take a shower and then he could be over to the damned ballroom.

The cool water washed over his back as he stepped into the shower. His anger slowly melted to slight irritation as he sat on the shower floor and forced himself to relax. He'd been stressed way too much as of late. It couldn't be leaving a good impression on Kurama, certainly. After all, he hadn't even told him a few days ago that _he _had been the one who needed to relax. Oh, Kurama. How stupid he could be sometimes, will at the same time, remaining smart. How could someone human do that? The redhead was the epitome of perfection, almost like a walking god. As a boy, he held more beauty than the most breathtaking woman in the world. And yet still, he was innocent, chaste, intelligent, and talented. It seemed unreal. Didn't Kurama have even one downside? He asked himself. Of course he did. He had to. Otherwise, how could he call the boy human? _But you think he's too perfect to be human, anyways._ Taunted a voice in the back of his head.

He shook his head listlessly, fury bubbling inside. _Shut up!_ He told himself, scorning the phrase, and slamming his fist into the shower wall, bruising his hand painfully. With that, he jumped from the shower and wrapped a towel around himself, cursing Kurama and his own thoughts. He was glad that his hair didn't need too much care. Otherwise, he felt as if it would have been a waste to even go. As he dressed, he dug around in one of his drawers for a spare pair of sunglasses. His normal pair had been broken during the fight. As he completed dressing, he added one more thing to his outfit, a silver crucifix a loved one had given him long ago. He tied the red satin around his neck and was out the door, a slightly pessimistic aura hanging around him.

They were all laughing and partying when he walked in the door. He was glad of that. At least they weren't panicking and trying to figure out where their host had run off. The party was going on as planned, except for one thing. Kurama sat alone in a corner, looking slightly troubled. Immediately the image hit a soft spot and he made his way over to him sitting down in a chair next to him. The boy looked shocked by his appearance, maybe even more troubled. His expression was that of almost fear. Though he didn't show it, his heart went out to the visually distraught boy.

"Hiei!" He stuttered out, the word almost a trademark saying. Kurama looked unsure about something, Hiei noted. In his eyes, he saw the boy as sad. He almost felt guilty when he told himself that this could've been caused by how long it had taken him to get here. The wounds were a painful reminder of that, but the looked on the pale face tugged at Hiei's heartstrings painfully. It wasn't like Hiei was used to such a thing. He used to be a being of no emotion, one that killed without mercy and left no second thought to it. Yet the sight before him hurt more than the sharpest knife could. It almost made him want to pound that beautiful face to a pulp. He didn't like these emotions, the feelings of regret and guilt. Without volition, the brushed a stray lock of hair away, going numb from pain when Kurama shifted away from his touch uneasily. Yet his face remained slack, never paying homage to the pain raging within. Maybe that was why nobody had ever bothered to get close to him, or managed to worm their way into his heart. The ghost of a creature, this shadow, no, image of perfection, had done it. Kurama and that stupid beauty of his had done the impossible. Was lust this way? Or perhaps he felt more than lust. No, that wasn't possible. He was nothing more than an animal, even worse, he had no feelings, and he felt, if anything, lust. And even with that, even lust seemed impossible. He'd never had a lover in his lifetime that really mattered anyways. He hated most people and most people hated him.

He still couldn't find the courage to ask what was wrong after all of that. Even after the heated moment, he still could not swallow his pride and show how much he actually cared. It was one thing to dream, yet another to act. He wished to be able to talk to the redhead and touch him without fear of scaring him away. Everyone knew that he wasn't supposed to feel emotions such as these. Yet here he was, acting like a giddy teenaged girl with his dreams, feeling heated after every chance he got to touch the vision of perfection he had come to know.

Still, after all his angry declarations within himself, he couldn't help but slide a little closer to the boy. He imagined Kurama as an elusive flower, pale petals glowing in the moonlight. Heh… it wasn't all that hard. As it was dark in the ballroom, it was as dark as a summer night. Now that he looked at the redhead, his skin did seem to glow, as brightly as flowers that only bloomed by moonlight. If he were to reach out and touch that face, would he feel its warmth? Or would it just appear cold to him as everything in the world did. For as long as he could remember, he had been cold, longing for something warm. But in the dark sham of a life he lived, he never encountered to warmth of the sun's rays, or even that of a human touch. The idea of actually touching Kurama scared him for a moment again. What if he killed that warmth with a single touch?

Long ago, Hiei had a distant memory from his childhood. Back then, he had still been a loner, but he had been a happy loner. He had giggled while out traveling with his mom, and played among the trees in the city park. What stood out to him was when he had discovered a beautiful flower, growing alone, in a clearing coved with nothing but the generic grass. Being childish, he had pulled the flower up, and brought it home. Even after putting it in water, the pretty flower had only lived a few days. And one night, when he had been holding it, the petals simply crumpled and fell to the ground.

Would Kurama be like that flower? If he chose to confess his feelings, and maybe even possibly gain him as a lover, would he die? Certainly, he would get old, and his beauty would fade away. Sternly, he told himself in his head that he wouldn't allow that to happen. He could give Kurama an eternity, and the beauty would remain unfading. Perfection never died, and it never faded. Kurama _was _perfection.

Kurama shifted slightly in his seat when Hiei's hand fell onto his thigh, as if by accident. Though the touch was gentle, almost to an eerie degree, Kurama squirmed under it, getting a glimpse of Hiei's true emotions came through to his aura. Never had Kurama seen someone so sad, and so longing. He was sure that he could clearly envision Hiei's eyes, even if sunglasses had always hid them. The touch itself was sinful, though. It made Kurama's cheeks heat up with embarrassment. Impure, yet oddly delightful, Kurama was sure he could feel his skin crawling under the very touch. He paused to open his mouth, perhaps to protest. He blinked and found their faces inches apart. Somehow, he wouldn't be surprised if Hiei would have kissed him right at that moment. Oddly, the thought was exciting in a way. He tried to smile; yet it was so hard. He could feel his eyes fluttering shut, his face drifting closer to Hiei's out of its own volition.

Hiei pulled away very suddenly after that, breaking the moment, and whipping some sense into Kurama. Briefly, he stretched his arms, acting as if nothing had happened. He blamed it on hormones. Surely, he had to have been hallucinating. Yeah, that had to be it. Hiei seemed to be thinking along the same line, too. Hiei stretched and stood. Somehow, he felt that if he asked Hiei about what had just happened, he would have either said it was a mistake or he was hallucinating. Something along those lines, at least.

"Come on, Kurama. They're serving dinner now." Kurama scampered up, excited to hear those words. He was hungry, and the food that was served at these parties was always good. The only thing he didn't like was the fact that Hiei didn't eat here. He always came saying he'd eaten before, and that he didn't like the food. No matter how many times Kurama tried to offer Hiei something, he always refused. He didn't really care tonight, though, as he scampered over to the circular tables where the guests were gathering. After making his speech, Kurama sat and food was served. It was really good food. He didn't think that he'd ever had such a delicious meal in his entire life. Hiei, meanwhile, sat off next to Kurama watching as if it was the most fascinating activity on the face of the planet. He didn't know how someone could eat so fast while still seeming graceful at the same time. But then again, Kurama always outclassed people in grace, whether it was in fighting, walking, or something random like eating. That's why Hiei saw him as the epitome of perfection.

As they got down to dessert, Kurama and Hiei chattered quietly. While Hiei sat, place settings untouched, Kurama sipped from a glass of red wine. Hiei couldn't help but stare at Kurama's lips, wondering how he had come so close to kissing that beautiful flower no more than a few hours ago. He wanted to try it again, but Kurama was smart, and he would get ideas. That wasn't what he wanted. It just so happened to be that Kurama was finishing his wine when Karasu walked by. It was a surprise when Kurama jumped halfway out of his seat and nearly choked on the liquid. Karasu sat down next to Hiei as Kurama set aside his wine glass, a furious blush just barely hidden while he wiped his mouth with a napkin. Hiei glared at Karasu, then looked to Kurama. At least he had calmed down now. He dismissed his suspicions about his rival and noted to talk to Kurama that night about it.

"Hello, Karasu. I haven't seen you all night. Where have you been?" Hiei asked, just barely managing to conceal his bad temper towards the man. He then turned away and looked back to Kurama, who was stoic, not even caring to gaze at Karasu. Observing Karasu's behavior, he decided that Karasu wouldn't be ant threat to him right now. "Well, I apologize. It's late; we need to be going now. Karasu, I'll contact you in a few days. For now, best wishes." Though the words were some of the kindest Hiei had ever spoken, they didn't sound genuine. With that last word, Hiei pulled Kurama away from Karasu, dragging him towards the exit. Idly, Kurama turned as Hiei dragged him, straining to see the one behind him. He waved once before finally allowing himself to be led fully away from Karasu. Luckily, Hiei had been to preoccupied with dragging Kurama away to notice that Kurama and Karasu had exchanged their silent farewells. An earlier promise bound them together, the one where Kurama had sworn earlier that he'd find a way to visit that week. That had been shortly before they separated, out of knowledge that Hiei would arrive soon.

Later that night, an hour or so before dawn, Kurama tossed and turned in his bed, unable to sleep. With a sudden vision, he jolted out of bed, breathing choppy.

"_Stay away from my baby!" The distant shout was angry. He cupped his hand, in sudden remembrance of its pain. As he watched her fight, he felt more and more disheartened. With a quick swing of a hand, she was knocked against a wall. She slid down it feebly, without much more enthusiasm to get up._

_He was running as fast as he could, through corridors filled with cobwebs and dust. The patter of his small feet could be heard throughout the rickety old mansion. He finally reached the door, panting from exhaustion. Hearing footsteps descending from the stairs, he gasped and hid, scared of being found. He found himself wedged under the space of an adjacent couch, just a bare fit. Emerald orbs peeked out from under the space as he watched the pair of feet travel past his hiding spot. _

_There was a sudden shock to his system, causing his body to go rigid. The sensation of dragging across the floor, being pulled from his hiding place gave him yet more another adrenaline rushes. Still, he remained frozen, eyes the size of saucers remained unblinking, showing his fear. He was even more frightened as the man brought his bloodied hand to his mouth and licked across the length, as if to test him. He was struggling, pleading with his captor in his native language. Yet he couldn't imagine why the predator would've understood him anyways. _

"_No!"_

Kurama started out of his trance and wrapped a blanket around his shivering body. Perhaps he should go see Hiei, he thought while heading towards his room. "Hiei?" He called softly as he nudged Hiei's bedroom door open. Nobody was there. Yet still, the temptation to go in was overpowering. Hiei's room was rather odd, though it could compliment his clothing choices well. There was no other word to describe it except gothic. The room was painted all black, with accents of red, particularly on the bed, an oddly erotic picture of red and black silk. Something caught the corner of his eye. The edge of a brown cardboard box protruded slightly from under the bed. Ignoring his conscience, he knelt on the floor and pulled the box out curiously.

It was filled with books, twenty or thirty hardcover volumes were packed into the box. Curiosity overpowering him, he reached in and spread the books on the floor. For a moment he was slightly frightened that Hiei might have walked in and gotten mad. He looked behind him, breathing hard and expected to see an angry man ready to press a knife to his throat. There was no such thing. He relaxed, and then noticed. One book in particular caught his eye. The copy was old, part of its cover peeling from age. Could it be?

It was, indeed an exact replica of the book he had held nearly ten years ago, when he and his mother had first come to France. But why would Hiei have it? He thought. Maybe it was just a coincidence. He opened the book, finding his old home's address in it, written in blood red ink. His eyes widened, this couldn't be a coincidence, could it? After quickly replacing the rest of the books and pushing the box under the bed, he tucked the mysterious book next to him under his blanket.

"Kurama?" A questioning voice called to him. He nearly jumped out of his skin. Without a doubt, he was sure that it was Hiei. To his surprise, Yuusuke pushed the door open, giving him a questioning look. Thank god, at least it wasn't Hiei. "What are you doing here, Kurama?" He asked in a soft whisper. Quickly, the redhead found an answer.

"I was looking for Hiei. I had a bad dream and I was scared." Kurama made sure to make his voice sound unsteady and frightened. Immediately, Yuusuke's expression grew softer and he made his way over to Kurama, guiding him to his feet and drawing him into a secure embrace. Kurama at first didn't respond, but decided to go along with it. Casually, he leaned his head against the crook of Yuusuke's neck and closed his eyes softly, making sure that he came across as scared. Otherwise, Yuusuke would surely know that he was lying. This was suspicious as it was, telling Yuusuke his 'problems'.

"Well, come on. I'll take you back to bed," he whispered gently, guiding Kurama away. "Besides, you know Hiei doesn't like people in his room, even if it's in the best intentions." He continued while gently stroking Kurama's hair. While making sure the book remained concealed, he let Yuusuke lead him back to bed and hold him for a moment until he decided to fake sleep, just so that he could be alone.

When Yuusuke finally left, he let out an exasperated sigh. Thank god. After placing the book safely in his hiding spot, he curled up under the covers and allowed sleep to claim him.


	6. Chapter 6

For any reader who may care:

I know that you're probably looking for a chapter out of me, whether it be for this story or my other one. I'm sad to say that there isn't one... and there probably won't be for a long time. If you care about listening to me long winded-excuse, I'd actually be grateful.

It started off as a simple lack of keyboard. Mine stopped working and my dad gave me his spare... "The virtually indestructable keyboard." It offers no wrist support and hurts my hands. That was why I stopped in the first place. But I need to admit that over the months, I've been changing. My motives have switched from writer to student. I didn't do as well as I wanted to. I need a very good GPA to get into the college I want to. As soon as the new year starts, I'm going to focus on nothing but school. Other priorites that come after that: friends, DDR, art, and other obligations. I've become a lot better at DDR--and it's all thanks to the practice I have got in... time that used to be spent writing. Fanfiction won't get me anywhere in the world, but DDR tournaments and things like open practice that I went to today... I feel like I've truly accomplished something. My MAIN focus is training, getting in at least an hour a day. I'm going to be going to my first tournament, hopefully on next Tuesday, the twenty-fifth. I used to take pride in seeing reviews, but I have to admit, the thing that partially made me stop writing was the downwards slump in the quality of writing here. While there's still wonderful writiers here, the archives a plagued with bad OC stories, cliche plots, and some yaoi that makes me want to retch. There is NOBODY who is willing to give most yaoi authors the motivation to go on. At least with DDR I can meet new people and have fun. Fanfiction, for me, was always time consuming. I could have been doing something with my friends.

Another contribution... the question of my sexuality. I've been dealing with a huge crush on someone that's changed my outlook on life, and love as I know it. I'm happiest when I'm around her, and sadly enough, I can't unless I abandon my computer for it. I still roleplay, but not write. I'm so happy around her, the happiest I've been in years. For some reason, I just feel worse sitting here alone on the computer.

I'm not saying this is the end. I will still make an effort to post here, and to hopefully finish this story one day. I may come back here years later, when I've graduated college and find that I have a blast doing this. Not now... though. If you wish to find me, and discus anything, feel free. I have various contacts. If you wish to do a continuation on my story, feel free. Just be sure you let me know and give me proper credit.

Contacts

E-Mail: shelli771excitedotcom

Aol Instant Messanger: koori bara

Gaiaonline: kyoka13

deviantArt: midnight-blizzard

I won't say goodbye, but please, take my apology for quitting so early on.


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